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Vi.pv 


AUTHOR: 


LILLY,  W'LLIAM 

SAMUEL 


.» 


19 


^--  Ai 


TITLE 


ON  RIGHT  AND 
WRONG 


PLACE: 


LONDON 


DATE: 


1890 


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Lilly,  William  Samuel,  1840- 1919, 

Hn^^'pif ''^  ^""^  '^'?'?T^^  ^y  William  Samuel  Lilly 
don,  Chapman  and  Hall,  limited,  1890.  "* 

2  p.  1.,  m-xxx,  284  p.    23*". 


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1.  Ethics. 


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ON  RIGHT  AND  WRONG 


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ON  EIGHT  AND  WKONG 


WORKS  BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


ANCIENT  RP:LIGI0N  AND  MODERN  THOUGHT. 
Second  Edition.     Demv  8vo,  I2s. 

CHAPTERS    IN   EUROPEAN    HISTORY.      With 

an   Introductory    Dialogue   on   the    Philosophy    of    History. 
2  vols.     Demy  8vo,  21.'?. 

A  CENTURY  OF  REVOLUTION.     Second  Edition, 
lievised.     Demy  8vo,  12.s-. 


BY 


WILLIAM   SA]\IUEL   LILLY 


Toi;s  apu  TToXXa  KaXa  Oeuiuiepovsy  avro  be  tq  kuXop  jit)  opwp-as 
firjb'  aXAw  tV  avTO  ayorri  bvya/ierovs  eTrefrduL,  Kal  ttoXXu  bikcufi, 
civTO  be  TO  biKaiov  fJij,  Kai  Travra  ovro),  bo^a^eiy  (priaofier  airavra, 
yi-ytojfTKeii'  be  iLv  bo'^aiovaip  ovbev.  Mi]  olv  ri  TrXrififAeXiitToiiev 
(piXobotovs  KaXovrres  avTovs  /idXXop  ij  (pLXoaoipovSi  Km  apa  r^jxip 
(T(p6bpa    \uXeTTuvovaiv,  ixv  ovtu)  Xeyvjuer  ; 

Plato. 


LONDON:   CHAPMAN   AND  HALL 

Limited 
1890 


,j 


wo 
\ 


WESTMINSTER  : 

PRINTED  BY  NICHOLS  AND  SONS, 

25,  PARLIA3IENT  STREET. 


\10 


To  THE  Rev.  MANDELL  CREIGHTON, 

Canon  of  Worcester, 

Diojie  Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  History 
in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 


My  dear  Creighton, 

In  writing  your  name  here,  with  your  kind 
permission,  I  desire  not  merely  to  offer  you  a 
token— poor  and  inadequate,  as  I  know  full  well — 
of  personal  regard  and  esteem.  I  wish  also  to  avail 
myself  of  an  opportunity  to  testify  my  appreciation 
of,  my  gratitude  for,  your  fruitful  endeavour  to 
raise  tlie  character  of  historical  studies  in  this 
country.  You  have  done  much  to  take  away  the 
reproach,  too  long  and  too  justly  attaching  to  Eng- 
lish scholarship,  for  the  inadequacy  of  its  methods 
and  for  the  scantiness  of  it^  achievements,  in 
this  important  field  of  intellectual  activity.  And 
it  is  a  deep  satisfaction  to  me  that  the  chief  scene 
of  your  labours  is  in  my  own  University,  which  is 
so  fortunate  as  to  number  you  among  her  adopted 
sons. 

But,  to  say  the  truth,  there  is  yet  another  feeling, 
besides  friendship  and  gratitude,  which  has  led  me 
to  offer  you  this  book.     Some  years  ago  you  did 


J'laM'SMI.. !«!■.«■  aBM  ..1  A^kaMI— 


lift!  Hi  I- 


VI 


me  tlic  honour  of  inviting"  nie  to  contribute  to  the 
organ  of  liiglier  historical  criticism,  called  into 
existence  by  you  to  supply  a  grievous  want  in 
our  periodical  literature.  It  would  have  been  a 
great  gratification  to  me  to  associate  myself,  in 
however  small  a  way,  with  your  work.  It  is  a 
cause  of  much  regret  to  me  that  I  have  been  able 
to  offer  you  only  one  paper  for  the  English  His- 
torical  Heview,  and  that  of  the  nature  of  a  mere 
personal  explanation.  The  present  volume  must 
plead  as  my  excuse.  Great  as  are  our  national 
shortcomings  in  the  domain  of  history,  they  are 
assuredly  far  greater  in  the  domain  of  moral  philo- 
sophy. ''The  oracles  are  dumb:"  or  if  they 
speak  at  all,  it  is  "in  words  deceiving."  '' O, 
psychologic,  garde-toi  de  physiologic  !  "  exclahned 
Maine  de  Biran,  more  than  half  a  century  ago. 
That  is  precisely  wliat  psychology  has  quite  failed 
to  do,  either  in  his  country  or  in  ours.  It  is  a 
most  astonishing,  a  most  disheartening  sign  of  the 
times,  that  people  are  supposed  to  be  entitled  to 
speak  with  authority  upon  questions  of  ontology  or 
ethics,  merely  because  they  happen  to  have  attained 
some  degree  of  eminence  in  some  branch  of  phy- 
sical science.  They  may  not  have  read  a  single 
metaphysical  text-book.  Nay,  they  may  be  igno- 
irant  of  the  meaning  of  the  commonest  philosophical 
terms.      Or — but  that   is    the    accomplishment   of 


vu 


a  select  few — they  may  possess  ''just  enough  of 
learning  to  misquote."  No  matter.  They  pose  as 
moral  philosophers,  upon  the  strength  of  their 
achievements  in  cerebral  mensuration  or  in  the  dy- 
namics of  matter.  And  their  pretensions  are  allowed, 
not  only  by  ignorant  and  foolish  ''  general  readers," 
whose  suffrages  largely  determine  public  opinion, 
but  even  by  accredited  and  authoritative  teachers, 
whose  office  it  is  specially  to  represent  the  claims, 
and  to  guard  the  rights  of  moral  philosophy.  The 
consequences  have  been  unspeakably  disastrous, 
both  in  speculation  and  in  practice.  I  remember 
the  late  M.  Caro  once  remarked  to  me,  ''La  morale 
de  nos  jours,  c'est  une  morale  de  commis-voyageur." 
This  witness  is  true. 

In  such  a  condition  of  things,  it  appeared  to  me  a 
duty  to  do  wliat  little  I  could  to  vindicate  the 
true  method  in  ethics.  There  is  only  one  true 
method.  In  the  following  pages,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  exhibit  it,  and  to  point  out  some  of  its  more  im- 
portant practical  applications.  It  has  been  well 
observed  by  the  illustrious  Trendelenburg  :  "  Es  ist 
eine  alte  und  immer  junge  Aufgabe,  welche  zu 
keiner  Zeit  in  der  Wissenschaft  ruhen  darf,  die 
Grundlagen,  auf  welchen  Sitte  und  Recht  stehen, 
von  welchen  Werth  und  Unwerth  des  Lebens 
abhlingen,  aus  dem  Scliwanken  der  Meinungen 
und  Strebungen  in  eine  festere  Lage  zu  bringen." 

b  2 


Vlll 


Such  is  the  task  to  which  I  have  sought  to  make  my 
humble  contribution    in    tills    book.       But,    unlike 
Trendelenburg  in  his  Naturrecht  auf  dem  Grunde 
der  Ethlk^  I  am  not  writing  for  readers   trained  in 
philosophy.     Such  a  class  of  readers  can  hardly  be 
said  to  exist  in  England.     My  object  has  been  to 
present  a  practical  treatment  of  a  practical  subject, 
to   intelligent  and  thoughtful  men  of   the   world. 
Hence  I  have  sought  to  say  what  I  had   to  say  as 
concisely  as  might  be.     I  have  also  endeavoured  to 
avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  technical  expressions,  and 
modes  of  thought  not  likely  to  be  familiar  save  to 
philosophical  students.      I  am  well  aware  that   my 
pages  have  thereby  lost  in  precision,   and,  conse- 
quently, in  value  to  scholars  like  yourself.     I  feel 
confident,  however,  that  you  w^ill  pardon  that  defect, 
if  — which  I  earnestly  hope — my  treatment  of  my 
subject  commends  itself  to  you,  as  likely  to  promote 
a  more  intelligent  appreciation,  generally,  of  topics 
involving  the  moral  life   and  death  of  men  and  of 
nations. 

But  instead  of  the  letter  which  I  proposed  to 
write  when  I  sat  down,  I  am  inflicting  upon  you  a 
dissertation.     ^'  Verbum  non  amplius  addam." 

I  am,  my  dear  Creighton, 

Very  truly  yours, 

W.  S.  LILLY. 

Athen.eum  Club. 

March  2bth,  1800. 


SUMMAEY. 


CHAPTER   I. 


THE    CRISIS    OF    ETHICS. 


PAGE 


The  idea  of  Right  has  hitherto  been  venerated  by  mankind 
at  large,  as  snpersensuous,  absolute,  divine.  Rights 
have  been  held  to  rest  npon  an  ethical  sanction,  and 
that  upon  noumenal  truth        .... 

In  the  present  day  the  principles  upon  which  the  concepts 
of  Right  and  Wrong  have  been  based,  are  more  than 
questioned,  and  the  old  ethical  doctrines  are  falling 
into  discredit.     We  are  living  in  a  moral  crisis 

Which  must  be  attributed  to  the  advance  of  Materialism 
in  the  general  mind      ..... 

There  are  many  varieties  of  Materialism :  for  example 
the  late  Professor  Clifford,  Professor  Huxley,  and 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  represent  three  different  types 

But  all  agree  in  restricting  our  knowledge  to  the  phe- 
nomenal universe,  of  whicli  consciousness  and  will 
are  for  them  fortuitous  or  necessary  products :  they 
teach  that  the  laws  of  thought  are,  in  the  last 
resort,  only  sensations,  or  induced  tendencies  of  the 
nervous  system;  they  express  the  entire  man  by 
matter  :  his  intellectual  and  moral  being  as  well  as 
his  corporal  frame         .  .  .  .  . 


14 


\ 


X  SUMMARY. 

In  the  long  run  it  will  be  found  that  there  are  only 
two  schools  of  thought,  Transcendentalism  and 
Materialism       .,.••• 

One  of  the  most  striking  signs  of  the  times  is  the  extent 
to  which  ^laterialism  has  triumphed  throughout 
Europe,  both  in  the  higher  and  in  popular  literature 

Politics  and  art  tell  the  same  tale  .... 


PAGE 


CHAPTER  II. 


MATERIALISTIC    ETHICS. 


The  new  morality  which  Materialism  offers  is  to  be  based 
upon  "  the  laws  of  comfort "  or  "  the  dicta  of  [phy- 
sical] science  "  . 


15 


17 
22 


Wo  may  see  the  corrodin^r  effects  of  ^Materialism  in  all 

the  most  important  departments  of  human  life  .       24 

For  example,  it  is  fatal  to  the  idea  of  human  responsi- 
bility, which  is  the  basis  of  penal  law  .  .       25 

It  is  fatal  to  marriage,  and  to  the  virtue  of  chastity,  of 

which  marriage  is  the  guardian  .  .  .28 

Certain  it  is  that  the  old  ethical  conceptions  which  have 
governed  civilised  life,  largely  share  in  the  discredit 
cast  by  Materialism  upon  the  metaphysical  dogmas 
whereon  they  rested     .  .  .  .  .36 

AEaterialism,  however,  proposes  to  rear  for  us  a  new 
morality  upon  another  foundation.  That  proposal 
will  be  examined  i»  the  next  chapter  .  .       36 


37 


SUMMARY. 

It  is  a  morality  deduced  merely  from  physical  law, 
gi^ounded  solely  on  what  is  called  '  experience,"  and 
on  analysis  of  and  deductions  from  experience ;  hold- 
ing only  of  the  positive  sciences,  and  rejecting  all 
pure  reason,  all  philosophy,  in  the  proper  sense  of 
the  word  ,..••• 

This  new  morality  is,  in  short,  Hedonism  ;  it  conceives  of 
man  as  an  animal  for  whom  pain  and  pleasure  are 
"the  sole  and  the  ultimate  causes  of  action " 

It  accounts  of  Right,  not  as  absolute,  but  as  relative :  the 
accord  of  the  individual  instinct  with  the  social  in- 
stinct :  and  of  Wrong,  as  the  absence  of  such 
accord.  It  finds  in  general  utility  the  only  scientific 
and  experimental  criterion  of  human  action    . 

And  as  it  deduces  Right  from  the  physical  fact  of  living 
too-ether,  so  does  it  deduce  Duty  from  the  physical 
necessity  of  living  together      .... 

Virtue  it  resolves  into  conduct  tending  to  the  general 
good,  and  therefore  consecrated  by  public  opinion      . 

It  repudiates  free-will  as  in  manifest  contradiction  with 
the  law  of  mechanical  causality,  and  by  its  identifi- 
cation of  moral  with  physical  necessity  it  is  led  to 
Determinism     ...••• 

Objections  to  this  new  morality : 

(1)  It  is  devoid  of  obligation,  in  place  of  which  it 
presents  us  with  a  mere  motive,  resting  upon  a 
proposition  by  no  means  universally  true 

(2)  In  a  world  of  mechanism  Right  is  a  meaningless 
.     word,  for  it  has  neithei:  subject  nor  object 


XI 


PAGE 


38 


39 


42 


45 


46 


47 


48 


51 


Xll 


SUMMARY. 


PAGE 


53 


54 


(3)  Physical  laws  give  us  mere  facts,  the  authority 
of  which  is  their  material  force,  and  which  are 
utterly  incapable  of  yielding  the  ethical  ought     .       51 

(4)  Public  opinion,  with  its  "uniformities  of  appro- 
bation and  disapprobation,"  is  in  no  sense  the 
creative  principle  of  morality :  so  far  as  it  repre- 
sents the  ethical  traditions  lying  at  the  root  of 
national  character  it  is  a  force  for  good  ;  but  an 
effect,  not  a  cause .  •  .  •  • 

(5)  The  application  of  the  laws  of  natural  history 
to  social  relations  issues  in  complete  ethical 
irresponsibility,  and  makes  of  morality  a  mere 
regulation  of  police  .  .  .  • 

(6)  "The  agreeable  consciousness  resulting  from  the 
healthy  exercise  of  the  energies  of  our  nature  " 
is  grotesquely  inadequate  to  support  the  old 
rule  of  right  action  "  Pais  ce  que  dois,  advienne 
que  pourra  "  . 

(7)  Whether  morality  be  regarded  objectively  or 
subjectively,  Materialism  is  fatal  to  it     . 

Consequences,  although  not  a  criterion  of  morality,  are 
an  element  in  ratiocination.  A  reductio  ad  ahsurdtim 
is  a  good  logical  process,  because  man  consists  in 
reason   ....••• 

And  the  fact  that  the  doctrines  of  Materialism  issue  in 
unreason,  is  enough  to  discredit  them  :  for  the  uni- 
verse is  reasonable  :  it  is  cosmos  not  chaos 

!N'o  compromise  is  possible  between  the  two  schools  of 
Materialism  and  Transcendentalism    . 

But  a  wdder  physic  would  not  hurt  our  metaphysic 


57 


58 


58 


59 


61 


62 


SUMMARY, 


xiii 


CHAPTER  III. 

EVOLUTIONARY    ETHICS. 

Mr.  Spencer's  ethical  teaching  deserves  special  attention, 
as  the  most  noteworthy  attempt  to  establish  the 
rules  of  right  conduct  upon  a  new  basis  :  and  there- 
fore this  chapter  is  devoted  to  the  consideration 
of  it 

He  regards  "moral  phenomena"  as  phenomena  of  evo- 
lution: and  evolution  he  defines  as  "  constituted  by 
a  redistribution  of  flatter  and  Motion  "  :  his  method 
in  morals  is  therefore  purely  physical 

Like  "  the  men  of  science,"  whose  teachings  were  con- 
sidered in  the  last  chapter,  he  reduces  all  knowledge 
to  experience  and  all  morality  to  expedience  . 

That  this  is  so,  is  often  denied,  and  Mr.  Spencer's  vigorous 
criticism  of  Bentham  and  Mill  is  urged  in  support  of 
the  denial  .•••*' 

It  is  perfectly  true  that  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  confine 
himself  to  the  experience  of  the  individual,  or  adopt 
the  bald  empiricism  which  sums  up  morality  as  en- 
lightened self-interest.  His  point  of  departure  is 
not  the  individual,  but  the  race :  and  his  "  laws  of 
conduct "  are  evolved  not  from  personal,  but  from 
tribal  selfishness.  But,  however  complicated  the 
process,  to  experience  and  expediency  he  comes  at 
last         .  

It  is  absolutely  clear  from  his  own  statements,  first, 
that  he  dissents  utterly  from  the  transcendental 
school  as  to  the  foundation  of  morals  :    insisting  that 


PAGE 


6(j 


68 


69 


70 


70 


m%     m  I  .-^.^ir^ 


XIV  SUMMARY, 

there  can  be  no  eternal  principle  of  right  and  wrong : 
which  words  have  for  him  only  a  subjective  meaning', 
only  a  momentary  consequence  in  the  evolution  of 
being :  his  controversy  with  Bentham  is  not  about 
the  source  of  ethics,  but  about  the  mode  of  estimating 
pain  and  pleasure :  to  him  laws  of  conduct  are  "  for- 
mulas of  utility,  not  as  empirically  estimated,  but  as  " 
w^iat  he  calls  "  rationally  determined  " 

Equally  clear  is  it,  in  the  Second  place,  that  he  denies 
free-will  in  every  possible  sense  and  subordinates 
morality  to  the  laws  of  life,  which  laws  he  accounts 
of  as  purely  physical,  his  argument  resting  mainly 
upon  what  is  really  a  sophism  about  conformity  to 
1^^^^ 

And,  thirdly,  no  less  evident  is  it  that  he  identifies  moral 
goodness  with  pleasure,  by  a  grave  metaphysical 
error,  while,  by  an  error  not  less  serious,  he  abstracts 
moral  obligation  in  general  from  a  representation  of 
"the  natural  consequences  "  of  certain  acts 

He  has  no  sort  of  rational  answer  to  give  to  the  question 
what  is  the  obligation  to  right  conduct:  no  valid 
reason   to    offer    why   the    individual    should    ever 

sacrifice  himself 

•  •  •  . 

He  tells  us  that  his  arguments  are  valid  only  for  opti- 
mists, but  experience,  to  which  he  appeals,  does  not 
yield  him  optimism  :  hence  he  is  compelled  to  invent  a 
Laputa,  which  he  calls  the  "  ideal,"  wherein  he  hopes 
his  ethics  will  be  verified :  but  this  is  to  put  himself 
altogether  out  of  court 

o  •  •  •  A 


PAGE 


71 


74 


80 


SS 


90 


His  evolutionary  ethics,  are,  in   fact,  a  house  of  cards, 

built  upon  a  foundation  of  sand  .  ,  .94 


V^ 

^ 


rt 


\ 


SUMMARY 


CHAPTER  lY. 


RATIONAL     ETHICS. 


ence 


Our  intuitions  of  Right  and  Wrong  are  first  principles 
anterior  to  all  systems .  ,  .  ,  , 

They  are  self-evident  and  categorical,  and  from  them 
ethical  science  starts.  Thus  its  principles  are,  in  the 
strictest  sense,  transcendental.  The  moral  "  ouo-ht  " 
appeals,  not  to  experience,  but  to  the  reason  of  things 

Hence,  in  its  own  sphere,  morality  is  autonomous  :  it  is 
absolutely  independent,  both  of  religious  systems  and 
of  the  physical  sciences  .... 


The  most  certain  portion  of  all  my  knowledge  is  that  I — 


the  thinking  being — exist 


XV 


PAGE 


The  true  basis  of  Ethics  must  be  sought  in  Reason: 
which  is  "  the  power  of  universal  and  necessary 
convictions;  the  source  and  substance  of  truths  above 
sense,  and  having  their  evidence  in  themselves  "        .       96 

Upon  its  testimony  we  believe  in  Natural  Right,  as 
immutable  truth,  wherein  every  man  shares  who  comes 
into  the  world :  in  Justice,  as  prior  to  all  experience, 
and  wholly  independent  of  empirical  deductions :  in 
the  Moral  Law,  a^  supreme  over  the  totality  of  exist- 


97 


98 


99 


99 


The  rule  of  ethics  is  a  natural  and  permanent  revelation 

of  the  Reason    ......     100 


100 


But  as  surely  as  I  am  conscious  of  myself,  so  am  I 
conscious  of  ethical  obligation.  The  sense  of  duty 
is  a  primary  fact  of  human  nature       .  .  .     101 


XVI 


SVMMAFY 


This  is  man's  special  prerogative.  The  rudiments  of  an 
ethical  sense  may,  indeed,  be  found  in  creatures  in- 
ferior to  man  in  the  scale  of  animate  existence.  But 
of  man,  alone,  can  we  predicate  consciousness  in  the 
proper  signification  of  the  word.  He  alone  can  recojr- 
nise  and  will  the  creative  thought  of  his  being :  he 
alone  is  a  person  ..... 

AVhatever  the  period  in  history  may  have  been  when  man's 
personality  emerged,  it  was  due  to  the  growth,  side 
by  side  with  sensuous  and  instinctive  impulses,  of  the 
faculty  of  Reason,  which  rendered  his  liberty  possible, 
by  emancipating  him  from  the  yoke  of  instinct  as  no 
other  animal  is  emancipated     .... 


PACiE 


101 


103 


This  free  volition  is  man's  distinctive  endowment;  the 
essence,  the  form  of  his  personality:  for  it  is  the  con- 
dition of  the  realisation  of  his  ethical  end,  in  virtue 
of  which  he  is  a  Person  .  .  .  .104 

To  personality  attach  rights  and  duties,  which  are  dif- 
ferent aspects  of  the  same  thing.  We  cannot  predicate 
the  one  where  we  cannot  predicate  the  other  .     104 

Duty  is  the  ethically  necessary.  Morality  consists  in 
deliberate  self-submission  to  that  necessity.  And 
this  free  volition,  determined  by  the  idea  of  good,  is 
in  itself  a  revelation  of  the  moral  law  .  .     104 

•  »  .  »  ^ 

The  moral  law  may  be  said  to  be  the  rule  of  action  Avhich 
arises  out  of  the  relation  of  Reason  to  itself,  as  its 
own  end.     Necessity  is  its  primary  note  .  .     104 

It  is  a  necessity  of  a  unique  kind,  derived  from  a  law  of 

ideal  relation,  obligatory  on  our  wills  .  .      105 


i 


c 


1 


SUMMABY. 

The_  moral  law  claims  obedience  as  a  thing  absolutely 
*^'Oocl,"^'an*end  in  itself:    and   by  that  very  claim, 
exhibits  itself  as  transcendental 

Its  oro-anon  is  the  Practical  Reason,  the  Moral  Under- 
standing,  Conscience  ...» 

The  sense  of  Duty,  a  form  of  the  mind  itself,  exists  as  "a 
blank  formula"  which  may  be  filled  up  in  a  variety  of 
ways.  The  point  upon  which  conscience  never  varies 
is  that  duty  exists         .  .  •  •  • 

Human  progress  means,  before  all  things,  the  education  of 
conscience :  the  deeper  apprehension  of  the  moral  law : 
that  is  of  justice,  which  is  "  the  will  to  render  to 
every  man  his  right."   .  .  .  •  • 

This  "right"  arises  from  the  primordial  idea  of  the 
person  in  himself ;  but  only  in  society  is  personality 
realised  :  the  social  organism  exhibits  that  which  lies 
in  the  nature  of  man,  but  which  could  never  have 
come  out  of  him  in  isolation     .  .  .  • 


xvii 


PAGE 


105 


106 


106 


108 


109 


111 


In  the  ethical  fellowship  of  successive  generations,  the 
idea  of  ri^ht  is  ever  increasingly  realised  :  it  gi'ows 
in  the  human  conscience  .  •  •  .     x±u 

But  an  idea,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word,  it  is,  and  uni- 
versality is  one  of  its  essential  notes    . 

The  belief  that  human  law  can  be  the  ultimate  ground 
and  only  measure  of  right,  or  that  all  human  rights 
arise  from  contract,  express  or  implied,  is,  upon  the 
face  of  it,  untenable      .  .  •  •  • 

Such  rights  as  the  right  to  existence,  or  the  right  to  self- 
defence,  possess  universal  validity.  They  are  merely 
sul)jective  expressions  of  Right,  which  is  founded  on 
necessity ;  and  may  properly  be  called  natural,  because 
they  originate  in  the  nature  of  things  .  •     112 


112 


XVlll 


SUMMARY. 


SUMMARY. 


XIX 


The  law  of  nature  is  an  expression  of  the  nature  of  things 
in  their  ethical  relations  .... 

The  natural  rights  of  man  have  an  ideal  value,  as  showing 
the  goal  towards  which  society,  in  unison  with  indi- 
vidual efForts,  should  tend 

•  •  • 

All  human  rights  are  really  but  different  aspects  of  the 
one  great  aboriginal  right  of  man  to  belong  to  him- 
self,  to  realise  the  idea  of  his  beino- 

All  human  laws  are  but  formulas,  in  Avhich  we  endeavour 
to  apply  the  dictates  of  that  universal  law,  >vhich  is 
absolute  and  eternal  Righteousness     . 

"  God  is  law  say  the  wise."  In  Him  the  ethical  order  is 
eternally  conceived,  eternally  realised.  But  the  moral 
law  leads  to,  is  not  derived  from,  the  Theistic  idea    . 

It  supplies  the  only  foundation  upon  which  the  social 
editice  can  be  surely  established.  The  true  concep- 
tion of  the  State  is  that  of  an  Ethical  Society 

The   following   are   fundamental    positions    of    Rational 
Ethics.     The  moral  law,  an  expression  of  Universal 
Reason,  is  a  formal  law,  sovereign  over  all ;  a  law  of 
ideal  relation,  obligatory  upon  all  wills.     The  desire 
to  do  right  as  right—that  alone  is   morality.     The 
idea  of  "right"  or  "ethical  good"  is  a  simple  ab- 
1    original  idea,  not  decomposable  into  any  other,  but 
V    strictly  6m  generis.     It  cannot  be  resolved  into  the 
idea  of  happiness,  or  of  pleasure,  or  of  greatest  use- 
fulness ;  neither  does  it  mean   "  commanded  by  the 
Deity,"  or  "  imposed  by  social  needs."     It  admits  of 
no  definition  save  in  terms  of  itself.     It  has  definite 
relations  to  various  other  ideas,  while  perfectly  inde- 
pendent of  them  as  to  its  essence.     It  has  therefore, 


PAGE 


114 


PAGE 


114 


114 


114 


115 


117 


nothing  to  do, in  its  own  nature,  with  Egoism,  Altruism, 
Utilitarianism,  or  any  method  of  reckoning  conse- 
quences, save  the  one  moral  consequence,  good  or  evil. 
It  is  innate,  in  the  sense  that  every  human  being  has 
the  capacity  of  requiring  it       . 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE    ETHICS    OF   PUNISHMENT. 


117 


It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  insist  on  these  truths 

at  the  present  day         .  .  •  •  .119 

In  the  remaining  chapters  of  this  work  six  practical  appli- 
cations of  them  will  be  indicated  .  .     121 


The  prevalent  opinion  concerning  punishment  is  that  it 

has  two  ends  :  to  deter  and  to  reform .  .  •     122 


124 


But  this,  although  true  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  not  a  sufficient 
account  of  punishment,  which  is,  first,  and  before  all 
things,  vindictive  .  .  .  «  • 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  punishment  is  associated  in  our 
minds  with  wrong-doing  And  the  association  is  not, 
as  the  philosophy  of  relativity  teaches,  accidental ; 
it  is  necessary ;  the  work  of  reason,  not  of  human 
caprice  .  .  •  •  •  *  * 

T-he,:fri'st  fact  about  man  is  his  consciousness  of  the  moral 
aw  and  of  his  obligation  to  obey  it.     But  the  very 
words  "  law  "  and  "  obligation  "  imply  a  penal  sanction .     125 


125 


XX 


SUMMARY. 


That  there  is  an  inseparable  connection  between  wrong"- 
doing  and  punishment,  is  an  organic  instinct  of  con- 
science :  and  instinct  never  deceives.  Retribution  is 
"  the  other  half  of  crime."  The  sanction  implied  in 
the  moral  law  is  the  violent  restoration  of  the  moral 
order      ....... 

The_Si2iaX-4*w,  then,  apprehended,  not  made,  by  our 
practical  reason,  implies  that  right  is_rewarded  and 
wrong  punished.  And  here  is  the  principle  which 
makes  our  criminal  justice  just.  Penal  jurisprudence 
is  simply  a  moral  judgment  exhibited  in  visible  form 

At  the  root  of  criminal  law  lie  two  great  instincts,  to 
avenge  and  to  deter.  Both  must  be  recognised  and 
reckoned  with.  In  the  State  the  instinct  of  revenge  is 
moralised,  and  becomes,  as  retributive  justice,  an  ex- 
pression of  the  ethical  might  of  the  social  organism  . 

The  primitive  rule  was  the  lex  talionis,  and  the  principle 
of  that  rule  is  everlastingly  true,  although,  in  our 
deeper  apprehension  of  the  sacredness  of  human  per- 
sonality, we  put  aside  the  cruder  application  once 
given  to  it  by  archaic  jurisprudence    . 

Whether,  then,  we  view  the  mattei*  historically  or  philo- 
sophically, punishment  is  primarily  vindictive :  the 
magistrate  is  the  dispenser  of  righteous  retribu- 
tion :  "  a  revenger  to  execute  w^rath  upon  him  that 
doeth  evil,"  the  wrath  being  that  which  is  due  to  the 
wrongdoer  as  a  person :  the  penalty  which,  by  the 
eternal  law  of  Right,  is  the  proper  complement  of  his 
crime     .....•• 


(T 


But  the  concept  of  crime  rests  upon  "  the  faculty  of  actin 
according  to  the  consciousness  of  laws  "  :  and  the 
supreme  question,  in  the  world  of  thought,  in  these 
days,  is  whether  that  faculty  exists     . 


PACE 


127 


129 


130 


131 


134 


13; 


SUMMAllY. 

For  a  plain  man  Dr.  Johnson's  rough-and-ready  settlement 
of  it,  "  Sir,  we  hiow  that  our  will  is  free  and  there's 
an  end  of  it,"  may  suffice.  For  the  philosophical 
justification  of  this  dictum,  it  is  enough  to  appeal  to 
the  categorical  imperative  of  conscience.  "  I  ought " 
implies  "  I  can  ".•••• 

The  self-determining  power  of  the  will  generates  that 
moral  responsibility  which  supplies  the  rationale  of 
criminal  justice.  It  alone  gives  validity  to  the  idea 
of  Duty  ....•• 


xxi 


PAGE 


136 


138 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    ETHICS    OF    POLITICS. 

Nothing  is  more  clear  than  that  politicians  generally,  in 
the  present  day,  regard  politics  as  a  game  to  be 
played,  first,  for  themselves,  and  then  for  their 
party,  Avithout  any  regard  to  ethical  considerations    . 

Such  is  the  unquestionable  fact.  And  it  is  an  expression 
of  the  belief  that  public  morality  is  quite  a  different 
thing  from  private  morality  :  that  "  of  the  classes  of 
obligations  which  constitute  private  morals,  only  one, 
namely  justice,  has  a  place  in  public  morals  at  all : 
and  that  the  justice  which  finds  place  in  public 
morals  is  totally  different  from  the  justice  which 
relates  to  individuals:  and  consists  mainly  in 
moderation  and  kindly  prudence." 

c 


141 


146 


XXll 


SUMMARY. 


But  this  prudential  rule  of  right  and  wrong  in  politics,  is 
nothing  else,  in  the  long  run,  than  respect  for  force  : 
it  is  the  application  of  the  doctrine  of  Hobbcs  that 
right  and  wrong,  justice  and  injustice,  "  have  their 
strensrth,  not  from  their  own  nature  but  from  the 
fear  of  evil  consequences  on  their  rupture  "     . 

The  special  kind  of  force  now^  dominant  is  the  force  of 
numbers  disguised  as  public  opinion,  which  is  re- 
garded as  the  very  source  and  fount  of  right,  of  law, 
of  justice,  in  the  public  order  .... 

In  opposition  to  this  doctrine,  it  must  be  maintained  that 
an  absolute  standard  of  Right  and  Wrong  rules 
throughout  the  universe  :  that  to  follow  what  reason 
speaking-  through  conscience  dictates  as  right,  is  the 
one  rule  of  public  as  of  private  life 

Politics  ought  to  be  conceived  of  as  a  branch  of  ethics. 
The  public  conscience  shoukl  dominate  customs, 
legislation,  diplomacy.  It  is  as  "  the  passionless  ex- 
pression of  general  right "  that  the  laws  of  a  nation 
have  a  claim  on  our  obedience 

And  so  the  limit  of  that  claim  is  clear  also.  The  first 
principle  of  a  man's  ethical  life  is  "  to  reverence  his 
conscience  as  his  king."  If  the  law  formulated  by 
the  community  conflicts  with  the  law  within,  it  must 
be  disobeyed      ...... 

That  Universal  Reason  which  is  the  Supreme  Rule  of 
Ethics,  dominant  over  nations  as  over  the  indi- 
viduals of  Avhom  they  are  composed,  can  no  more  be 
violated  by  nations  than  by  individuals,  without  in- 
curring the  retribution  which  is  the  other  half  of 
crime     .  .  .... 


PAGE 


148 


150 


152 


152 


154 


156 


SUMMARY. 


XXlll 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  ETHICS  OF  JOURNALISM. 


PAGE 


Wliat  is  called  Democracy,  that  is  the  advent  of  the  masses 
to  political  power,  is  the  dominant  fact  of  modern 
civilisation         ......     1^" 

It  is  manifestly  impossible  for  the  numerical  majority,  in 
our  country,  to  comprehend  by  their  own  wit  and 
labour,  even  the  elements  of  the  political  problems 
which   they  are  called  upon  to  decide.     Who  shall 


guide  them  ? 


160 


The  newspaper  press  undertakes  that  office.     What  are 

the  rights  and  duties  appertaining  to  it  ?      .  .       161 

The  rights  of  the  journalist  may  be  summed  up  in  the 
phrase  "  the  liberty  of  the  press  "  :  liberty  to  state 
facts,  to  argue  upon  them,  to  denounce  abuses,  to 
advocate  reforms  .....     162 

Such  is  the  right  of  the  journalist.  What  is  the  corre- 
sponding duty  ?  It  may  be  expressed  in  one  word : 
Veracity.  The  liberty  of  the  press,  like  all  liberty, 
means  action  within  the  great  principles  of  ethics. 
The  masses  have  a  right  to  expect  from  the  journal- 
ist what  his  reason  and  conscience  dictate  to  him  as 
truth      .  .  .  .  .  .  .165 

This  is  the  journalist's  vocation  in  ideal.  What  is  it  in 
fact  ?  Probably,  as  a  rule,  truth  is  the  last  thing 
the  average  journalist  thinks  about     .  .  .     167 

Unquestionably,  journalism  is  conducted  under  conditions 

peculiarly  inimical  to  the  virtue  of  Veracity  .  ,171 


XXIV 


SUMMARY. 


PAGE 


And,  perhaps,  it  would  not  be  too  much  to  say  that,  during 
the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  the  newspaper  press 
has  done  more  than  anything  else  to  de-ethicise 
public  life  .  .  •  .  •  .173 


CHAPTER  YIIl. 


THE    ETHICS    OF    PROPERTY 


In  the  great  question  between  Capital  and  Labour,  now 
before  the  world,  the  ultimate  appeal  must  be  to  the 
moral  laAV.  It  is  worth  while  therefore  to  consider 
it  from  the  point  of  view  of  Rational  Ethics  .  .     174 

Is  there  such  a  thing  as  a  natural  right  to  private  pro- 
perty ?  .  .  .  .  .  .  .177 


There  is.  First,  because  a  propensity  to  personal  acqui- 
sition is  a  component  of  man's  constitution :  an  organic 
instinct,  to  which  private  property  corresponds 


And,  secondly,  and  far  more,  because  private  property  is 
necessary  to  the  full  idea  of  human  personality.  Its 
ultimate  ground  is  necessity,  issuing  from  the  reason 
of  things  ...... 

But  the  right  to  property — like  all  rights — becomes  valid 
only  in  civil  society :  it  is  conditioned  by  correlative 
duties  towards  society,  varying  in  extent  according  to 
the  degree  of  civilisation  and  the  circumstances  of  the 
age,  and  is  held  in  subordination  to  the  supi-eme 
claims  of  the  social  organism.  It  must  be  organised 
in  the  commonwealth :  that  is,  brought  under  the 
dominion  of  reason        ..... 


177 


178 


181 


SUMMARY. 


I 


XXV 


PAGE 


Is  it  possible  to  maintain  that  the  existing  distribution  of 
wealth  is  reasonable  ?  a  division  which  "  instead  of 
being  proportioned  to  the  labour  and  abstinence  of 
the  individual,  is  almost  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  it"      .     183 

It  is  not  reasonable  :  it  is  not  right  (the  two  words  mean 

the  same).     "  It  is  unjust,  it  cannot  last"      .  .     185 

One  remedy  proposed  is  "  the  transformation  of  Civilisa- 
tion into  Socialism."  But  this  remedy  is  worse  than 
the  disease        ......     188 

The  importance  of  Socialism  does  not  lie  in  its  crude  and 
monstrous  theories,  but  in  this  :  that  it  is  "  alike  the 
inevitable  and  indispensable  protest  of  the  working 
classes,   and  the  aspiration  after  a  better  order  of 


things  " 


193 


The  only  foundation  on  which  that  better  order  can  be 

reared  is  the  moral  law  .  .  •  •     1'^'^ 

Aquinas  goes  to  the  root  of  the  matter  when  he  teaches 
that  to  render  property  lawful  "-  the  order  of  reason 
must  be  observed  :  that  is  to  say,  that  a  man  possess 
justly  what  he  owns,  and  that  he  use  it  in  a  proper 
manner  for  himself  and  others "  .  .  •     194 


Unrestricted  competition  is  unjust :  the  necessity  of  the 
seller  does  not  render  it  right  to  underpay  him :  to 
o-ive  him  less  than  a  jusfum  pretium  is  to  rob  him. 
Moreover  to  constitute  freedom  of  contract  there 
must  be  parity  of  condition      .... 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  to  much  of  the  wealth  of  the  rich 
classes  in  modern  Europe  the  saying  "  La  propriete 
c'est  le  vol,"  is  strictly  applicable 


194 


196 


If 


XXVI 


SUMMABY. 


But  even  if  a  man's  property  lias  been  justly  acquired,  to 
render  his  possession  of  it  valid  according  to  the 
moral  law,  there  lies  upon  him  the  obligation  of  em- 
ploying it  in  a  proper  manner  for  himself  and  others. 
He  has  not  a  right  to  do  what  he  likes,  but  only 
what  he  ought,  Avith  his  own,  which  after  all  is  his 
own  only  in  a  qualified  sense.  The  community  is  his 
overlord :  and  the  very  constitution  of  civilised  life 
gives  I'ise  to  the  duty  that  ownership  must  be  made 
a  common  good  to  tlie  community 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE   ETHICS  OF  MARRIAGK. 


Our  existing  civilisation  unquestionably  rests  upon  mar- 
riage, as  the  Christian  religion  has  shaped  it :  its 
law,  indissolubility,  grounded  upon  the  principle  of 
the  spiritual  equality  of  woman  with  man 

But  the  State  is  everywhere  ceasing  to  be  Christian,  and 
one  result  of  its  secularisation  is  the  supercession  of 
the  old  sacramental  foundation  of  the  social  order  by 
what  is  called  "  civil  marriage  "  :  a  purely  secular 
contract,  in  which  the  indissoluble  character  of 
marriage  disappears     .... 


PAGE 


199 


So  much  is  involved  in  "  the  order  of  reason  "  regarding 
property.  The  task  l^efore  the  world  is  the  re- 
orsranisation  of  industry  in  accordance  with  these 
dictates  of  the  moral  law  .  ,  .  .199 


203 


207 


SUMMAUY.  xxvii 


PAGE 


*' Advanced  thinkers"  find  the  nuptial  tie,  even  thus  re- 
laxed, too  stringent,  and  desire  to  substitute  for  it 
"ancAV  sex  relationship,"  which  "both  as  to  form 
and  substance  "  shall  be  "  a  pure  question  of  taste,  a 
simple  matter  of  agreement,  between  the  man  and 
the  woman,  in  which  neither  society  nor  the  State 
would  have  any  need  or  right  to  interefere,  unless  it 
result  in  children  "        . 

They  proceed  on  the  assumption  that  Christianity  is 
hopelessly  discredited.  Let  us  suppose,  for  the  sake 
of  argument,  that  this  is  so.  Does  it  follow  that 
the  doctrine  concerning  right  and  wrong  in  sexual 
relations,  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  world  has 
received  from  Christianity,  is  also  discredited  ? 

Most  certainly  not.  The  ethics  taught  by  Christianity 
are  not  an  appendage  to  its  theological  mysteries.  Its 
Author  left  no  code  of  scientific  morality.  The  moral 
law  is  ascertained,  not  from  the  announcements  of 
prophets,  apostles,  and  evangelists,  but  from  a  natural 
and  permanent  revelation  of  the  Reason 

As  regards  the  ethics  of  marriage,  Christianity  has  un- 
questionably promoted  a  truer  conception  of  them  by 
its  assertion  of  the  fact  and  the  rights  of  human 
personality        ...... 

And  by  the  new  type  of  Avomanho jd  introduced  by  it,  and 
idealised  in  the  Madonna.  "  Born  of  a  Avoman  "  is  the 
true  account  of  the  modern  home,  with  all  its  moral- 
ising influences  ..... 


209 


210 


211 


212 


213 


Christianity  has  vindicated  the  conception  of  marriage, 
in  its  nature  essentially  sacramental,  as  the  blending 
of  two  personalities  in  a  social  organism  embracing 
their  whole  existences,  "  no  longer  twain,  but  one"    .     214 


XXVlll 


SUM3IABY. 


This  is  the  true  ideal  of  marriage,  the  unity  and  indis- 
solubilitj  whereof  issue  from  the  nature  of  thino-s 
in  their  ethical  relations.  Christianity  did  but  adopt 
and  consecrate  that  ideal,  which  "  from  the  beo-in- 
ning  "  was  in  the  counsels  of  Eternal  Reason 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE    ETHICS    OF   AKT, 


PAGE 


The  reason  is  because  in  the  present  day  there  is  "a 
decline  in  the  more  poetical  and  religious  aspects  of 
man's  nature  "  :  and  poetry  and  religion  mean  in- 
spiration and  life.  Art  has  lost  its  height  and 
depth  because  it  has  lost  "  the  ideal  perspective  "  :  it 
has  been  derationalised  and  converted  into  mere 
mechanism  for  the  promotion  of  the  Materialistic 
"  summum  bonum  "  :  agreeable  feelino- 

The  true  theory  of  art  is  excellently  formulated  by  Kant, 
"  Only  the  productions  of  liberty,  that  is  of  a  volition 


216 


Nothing  short  of  that  ideal  is  adequate.  And  only  when 
it  is  recognised  is  the  position  of  woman  established 
on  its  true  ethical  basis  .  .  .  .218 


In  the  Art— taking  the  word  ir  the  widest  sense— of  any 

period,  is  the  truest  indication  of  its  ethical  character     221 

The  art  of  the  nineteenth  century  is,  speaking  generally, 
barren  in  nobleness,  void  of  dignity,  and  wanting  in 
the  attribute  of  soul     .....     222 


225 


SUMMARY. 

which  founds  its  actions  upon  reason,  ought  to  be 
called  art."  Art  seeks  the  reason  and  essence  of 
things.  It  is  the  external  manifestation  of  the  idea : 
the  revelation  of  the  invisible  reality  through  the 
senses :  an  economy  or  accommodation  whereby  tran- 
scendental verities  are  made  accessible  to  us  . 

It  springs  from  the  same  fount  as  morality :  both  being 
expressions  of  the  same  immutable  truth,  different 
sides  or  aspects  of  the  same  thing :  of  reason,  order, 
harmony,  right.  Hence  its  ethical  laws.  Desire  for 
the  beautiful  or  noble,  which  is  the  common  element 
of  all  the  virtues,  is  also  the  basis  of  art 

The  laws  of  art  are  the  laws  of  beauty.  But  the  beautiful 
is  of  the  intellect,  not  of  the  senses,  which  merely 
supply  the  artist  with  his  raw  material.  The  end  of 
the  intellect  is  truth  :  and  "  the  beautiful  is  the 
splendour  of  the  true  "... 


XXIX 


PAGE 


227 


230 


231 


It  is  "  as  absorbed  in  will,  or  thought,  or  spiritualised 
nature,"  that  the  passions  are  fit  material  for  art. 
The  test  of  the  moral  worth  of  a  work  of  art  is 
whether  the  impression  left  upon  a  healthy  mind  is 
sensuous  or  spiritual     .....     232 

This  applies  to  art,  in  the  form  of  literature,  as  much  as 
to  the  arts  of  design.  Art-  all  art— is  essentially 
one  :  and  is  governed  by  the  same  great  laws,  the 
same  immutable  principles.  Whether  it  is  informed 
by  any  true  ideal,  is  the  ultimate  ethical  criterion,  in 
judging  of  a  work  of  art  as  in  judging  of  that  social 
life  whereof  it  is  the  counterfeit  presentment  .     233 

Banish  the  ideal  from  the  life  of  man,  and  he  sinks  below 
the  level  of  the  lower  animals.  Such  is  the  natural 
fruit  of  the  philosophy  which  rejects  the  only  rational 

d 


XXX 


SUMMARY. 

conception  of  Right  and  Wrong,  and  degrades  to  the 
region  of  molecular  physics,  conceptions  properly 
appertaining  to  the  domains  of  the  organic  and  the 
spiritnal  ...... 


PACK 


235 


APPENDIX. 

The  Province  of   Physics,   a   Rejoinder   to    Professor 

Huxley         ......   237-264 


I  have  to  thank  the  Editors  of  the  Fortnlghilij  Review  and  the 
Foi-^im  for  permission  to  incorporate  in  the  present  ivork  certain 
contributions  of  mine  to  their  respective  Magazines.  And  I  am 
indebted  to  my  friend  Mr.  John  Sharman  Franey  for  his  kindness 
in   reading  the  proof-sheets  of    this  book,  and    in  favouring    me 

icith  several  valuable  suggestions. 

W.  S.  L. 


ON    EIGHT    AND    WEONG. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    CRISIS    OF    ETHICS. 


I  SUPPOSE  the  words  Right  and  Wrong  enter  more 
largely  into  human  life  than  any  other.  They 
are  among  the  first  words  uttered  by  children 
at  their  play:  ''You  have  no  right  to  do  this!" 
''  Tliat  is  wrong  !  "  They  are  most  profusely  used, 
and  abused,  in  the  commonest  affairs  of  daily  exist- 
ence, by  the  most  ignorant  and  uncultivated,  and 
generally— ' which  is  noteworthy— with  an  appeal 
to  the  universal  validity  of  the  conceptions  they 
represent,  as  though,  in  the  secure  judgment  of 
all  the  earth,  the  gainsayer  must  be  in  bad  faith. 
Everyone  talks  of  his  rights  as  if  they  were  the 
easiest  things  in  the  world  to  pronounce  upon. 
And  yet  how  difficult  are  the  problems  which  may 
be  raised  regarding  even  the  simplest  and  least 
questioned  of  them.  Parental  right,  for  example, 
springing  as  it  does  from  the  most  sacred  of  human 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


relations,  how  easy  to  deride  and  decry  it,  if  we 
regard  merely  the  blind  irrational  impulse  to  which 
each  individual,  the  accident  of  an  accident,  owes 
his  procreation.     Again,  think  how  large  a  part  of 
human  activity  is  consumed  in  the  endeavour,  mostly 
fruitless,  to  settle  questions  of  right.     The  whole 
machinery   of  jurisprudence,  Avith   its  legislatures, 
its  courts  of  various  instance,  its  judges,  advocates, 
and  attorneys,  attends  continually  upon  this  very 
thing.     But  the  glorious  uncertainty  of  the  law  has 
become  a  byword.     Fleets  and  armies  are  still  the 
last   resource   of   civilisation   for  determining   tlie 
rio-hts  of  nations.     Now,  as  in  the  time  of  Brennus, 
the  sword  is  the  ultimate  makeweight  in  the  scale 
of  justice.    It  may  be  said  that  the  history  of  right, 
throughout  the  ages,  is  one  long  martyrdom.     It  is 
ever  being  crucified  afresh  and  put  to  an  open  shame. 
Speaking  generally,  however,  we  may  assert  that 
the  idea  of  Right*  has  hitherto  been  venerated  by 

'^  Austin,  in  Lis  Province  of  Jurisprudence  Determined  (p.  257), 

has  a  long  note  on  wliat  lie  calls  ''  the  two  meanings  "  of  ''  right," 

"  which  ought  to  he  carefully  distinguished."     "The  noun  suhstan- 

tive,  '  a  right,'  "  he  ohserves,  *'  signifies  that  which  jurists  call  a 

faculty  ....   hut  the  expression  'right,'  when  it  is  used  as  an 

adjective,  is  equivalent  to  the  adjective  'just.'  "  And  he  complains 

that  "these  widely  different,  though. not  unconnected  terms  .... 

are  confounded  hy  many  of  the  German  writers  on  the  sciences  of 

law  and  morality,  as  hy  Kant,  for  example."     The  truth  is  that 

Austin,   whose   metaphysical    attainments  were  of   no    very  higli 

order,  was  himself  misled  hy  the  Utilitarian  doctrine  which,  from 

first  to  last,  held  captive  his  nohle  mind  ;  in  spite  of  his  efforts, 

at  times,  to  break  away  from  it,  into  the  freedom  of  worthier  con- 


I.] 


RIGHT  AND  RIGHTS. 


i 


mankind  at  large  as  supersensuous,  absolute,  divine. 
The  rights,  whether  of  nations  or  of  the  individuals 
of  Avliom  they  are  composed,  have  been  held  to  rest 
upon  an  ethical  sanction,  and  that  upon  noumenal 
truth.  Justice  has  been  accounted  a  matter  of  the 
will,  according  to  the  dictum  of  the  Roman  juris- 
consult, Justitia  est  constans  et  perpetua  voluntas  jus 
siium  culque  irihiiendi.  Culpability  has  been  referred, 
not  to  the  exterior  act,  but  to  the  interior  mental 
state,  Jlens  rea  facit  reum.  The  world,  on  the 
whole,  has  not  doubted  that  what  is  right  exists  by 
nature,  that  universal  obligation  is  a  prime  note  of 
it,  that  an  infringement  of  it  entails,  according  to  the 
'^  unwritten  and  immutable  laws  of  the  gods,  "retri- 
butive suffering  upon  the  wrong- doer.    These  were, 

ce})tions.  Tiie  German  writers,  whom  he  censures,  saw  clearly 
what  was  hidden  from  his  eyes,  that  the  two  terms  are  not  merely 
"  not  unconnected,"  hut  are,  in  their  ultimate  source,  one  ;  that 
it  is  the  very  office  of  what  is  called  NaturrecUt,  as  Trendelenburg 
expresses  it,  "  so  to  deduce  the  multiplicity  of  rights  from  the  self- 
same fount,  that  they  may  be  exhibited  as  governed  by  the  unity  of 
an  inherent  co-ordinating  thought."  I  know  not  where  to  turn  for 
a  better  exposition  of  this  most  important  matter,  than  to  the  clear 
and  cogent  thinker,  from  the  introduction  to  whose  Naturrecht 
aufdem  Grunde  der  EtJiik  I  am  quoting.  The  first  fifteen  sections 
of  that  admirable  work  are  a  masterpiece  of  luminous  and  logical 
discussion,  issuing  in  the  conclusion:  "The  separation  of  Law  and 
Morality,  of  Legislation  and  Ethics,  which  results  in  the  mere 
extern.nl  legality  of  the  Pharisees,  must  be  abandoned.  That  false 
independence  of  Jurisprudence,  which  claims  to  be  regarded  as  an 
advance  of  science,  has  not  only  perverted  Right  in  its  theory, 
but  has  stripped  it  of  its  dignity  in  the  life  of  men  ;  has  led  to 
representations  of  it  as  mere  mechanism,  and  has  emptied  it  of  its 
vivifying  idea." 

B  2 


riiE  cmsis  OF  ethics. 


[CH. 


for  long  ag'CSj  the  generally  accepted  data  of  moral 
philosophy.     I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  that  the  A^ast 
majority  of  men  have  ever  held  them  as  philosophers. 
They  made  their  way  into  the  popular  mind  through 
the  religious  traditions  which  are  the  only  philosophies 
avaihible  for  the  multitude.     The  morality  of  tlie 
old  civilisation  of  Egypt,  of  India,  of  Judea,  was 
bound  up  with  tlieir  religions.     The  same  may  be 
said  of   the  ancient  phase   of  Hellenic  and,  more 
strongly    still,    of  Roman    civilisation.       It   is   the 
special  glory  of    Buddhism  that  it  upheld  the  do- 
minion of  the  moral  law  over  gods,  and  men,  and 
the  whole  of  sentient  existence.     To  Christianity 
the  human  race  owes  the  supreme  enforcement  of 
the  autonomv  of  conscience  as  the  voice  of  Him 
whom  it  is  bettei'  to  obey  than  man.     But  now  the 
old  ethical  conceptions  are  everywhere  falling  into 
discredit.     The  very  principles  on  which  the  ideas 
of  right  and  wrong  have  hitherto  rested  are  very 
widely   questioned,    nay,    more   than    questioned. 
'^  No  one,"  observes  a  thoughtful  Avriter,  '^  can  deny 
either  the  reality  or  the  intensity  of  the  actual  crisis 
of  morality.     Nor  is  the  crisis  confined  to  certain 
questions  of  casuistry.    On  the  contrary,  it  extends  to 
the  most  general  rules  of  conduct,  and,  through  those 
rules,  to  the  very  principles  of  ethics  themselves."* 
I   believe   these   words   of   M.    Beaussire   to   be 
profoundly  true.     It  seems  to  me  that  we  arc  living 
in  a  crisis  of  the  world's  history ;  a  great  crisis,  for 
*  Beaussire,  Les  Frincipes  de  la  Monde,  p.  2G. 


!•] 


MORALITY  AND  METAPHYSICS. 


it  is  a  moral  crisis.     Fifty  years  ago  Jouffroy  wrote 
his    celebrated    article,     ''Comment    finissent    les 
dogmes."     He  had  in  view  religious  dogmas  only, 
and  especially  the  distinctive  tenets  of  Christianity. 
He  might  now,  were  he  alive,  discuss  the  question 
in  a  much  wider   sense.     Philosophy,  as   well   as 
relio'ion,  has  its  traditional  bases.     Certain  it  is,  as 
mere  matter  of  history,  apart  from  all  controversy, 
that  the  ethical  ideas  whicli  have  hitherto  ruled  the 
conduct  of  mankind,  have  rested  upon  metaphysical 
credenda.     As  certain  is  it  that  the  postulates  of 
the  old  philosophy— a  First  Cause,  by  which  the 
universe  was  brought  into  existence,  and  that  for  a 
good  end,  the  personality  of  man,  his  limited  and 
conditioned  liberty   and  moral   responsibility,   the 
immateriality  and  immortality  of  the  Ego,  the  abso- 
lute nature  of  ethics — certain  it  is  that  these  things 
arc  now  very  commonly  put  aside  as  antiquated 
delusions.     Kant  is  no  less  discredited  than  Jesus 
Christ  in  the  eyes  of  the  prophets  of  Materialism. 
The  Practical  Eeason  fares  as  badly  as  the  Christian 
lievelation  at  the  hands  of  the  sages  of  Positivism. 
Nay,  every  newspaper  hack  of  Continental  Liberalism 
is  ready  with  his  gibe  at  M.  de  I'xibsolu  and  IMdlle. 
lA'me.     In  the  novel,  in  the  play,  in  the  babble  of 
the    drawing-room    or   the    dinner-table,  the   most 
auo-ust  and  venerable  of  ethical  doctrines  are  called 
in  question  and  denied.    Even  the  supreme  authority 
of  conscience  is  impugned.     To  its  ^Hhou  must" 
the  answer  is  prompt :  '*'  On  what  compulsion  must 


I 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[ 


CH. 


I?  tell  me  that !  "     Its  ^^ dogmatism"  is  contemp- 
tuously  rejectedj    for    physical    science — the   only 
science—is  supposed  to  have  given  an  explanation 
of  it,  fatal  alike  to  its  authoritativeness  and  its  coer- 
civeness.     No  longer  may  \vc  account  of  it  with  St. 
Paul,  as  the  divine  law  written  in  the  heart.     It  is 
exhibited  to  us  as  nothing  more  than  ''  the  capi- 
talised   experience   of   the   tribe " :    its   obligation 
sublimated  selfishness,   its  sanction  a  brain  track. 
"  The  theory  of  an  independent  or  autonomous  con- 
science," Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  confidently  declares,  is 
^^  part  of  an  obsolete  form  of  speculation."*    Certain 
it  is  that  every  civilisation  which  the  world  has  as 
yet  known,  has  been  reared  upon  an  ethical,  not  a 
physical  foundation.     A  common  belief  in  dogmas 
of  morality — I  use   the  word  dogmas  advisedly — 
has   hitherto   been    the   very    condition    of    social 
cohesion.     To   speak   of    Europe    only,  its   public 
order   has   ever   been   based  upon  the  conviction, 
deep  down  in  the  hearts  of  all,  at  the  very  root  of 
their   moral   and    spiritual    being,    that   man   was 
encompassed   by    duties  —  duties    which,    however 
grudgingly    performed    or    brutally    violated,    in 
countless  instances,  were  everywhere  undoubtedly 
recognised  as  the  divinely   imposed   hxws  of  life. 
So  long  as  a  moral  code  exists,  and  is  generally 
acknowledged  and  revered,  the  fact  of  individual 
deflections   from  it,  whether  they  be  more  or  less 
numerous,  is  of  comparatively  small  importance.     It 

*  Science  of  Ethics j  p.  314. 


vi 


i 


i-J 


THE  TRADE  OF  THE  SOPHIST. 


is  the  invalidation  of  the  moral  code,  the  prevalence 
of  ethical  agnosticism,  the  scepticism  as  to  all  first 
principles  of  conduct,  which  I  account  so  porten- 
tous a  sign  of  our  ow^n  times.  ''  Deest  remedii 
locus,  ul)i,  qua)  vitia  fuerunt,  mores  fiunt." 


Now,  to   what  must  w^e  attribute  this  crisis  of 
ethics?   I  answer,  without  hesitation,  to  the  advance 
which  Materialism  has  made  in  the  general  mind. 
And    here,    in    order    to   make    good   my  way,  I 
must   enter    upon   an   explanation.      ''Words    are 
grown  so  false,  I  am  loth  to  prove  reason  with  them," 
says  the    Clown   in    Twelfth  Night,     The    saying 
constantly  comes  to  my  mind  in  dealing  with  the 
philosophical    controversies    of    the    present    day. 
Rigorous  definition,  careful  analysis,  precise  classi- 
fication, are  no  longer  in  favour.     It  is  an  age  of 
loose  thinking,   and  of  looser   writing;    of    ''idle 
words,  servants  to  shallow  fools."     Never,  perhaps, 
was  there  an  age  in  which  the  trade  of  the  sophist, 
whose  business  it  is  "  to  make  the  worse  reason 
appear  the  better,"  was  carried  on  so  successfully. 
Never  was  there  an  age  in  which  a  writer  who  feels 
that   he  is  ''  a   teacher  or   nothing,"   had   greater 
need   of    well-considered   and    accurate   language. 
It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  before  proceeding 
further  with  my  argument,  I  should  state  clearly 
what  I  mean  by  Materialism.     There  are  those  who 
would  restrict  it  to  a  doctrine  now  discredited  for 


I 


8 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


^•] 


OLD  AND  NEW  MATERIALISE 


higlier  minds.     What  wc  know  of  living  forces,  of 
the  real  properties  of  bodies,  is  irreconcilable  with 
the  old  notion  of  matter,  reduced  merely  to  solidity 
and  extension.     Our  better  acquaintance  Avith  the 
physiology  of  the  sense  organs  should  have  made  an 
end  of  the  sensism,  which  Professor  Clifford  con- 
temptuously calls    ^^the  crass  Materialism    of   the 
savage."     It  lingers,  however,  in  the  lower  intel- 
lectual regions.     Nay,  more,  it  is  still  widely  held 
there.     ^'H  est  des  morts  qu'il  faut  qu'on  tue,"  we 
may  say  of  this  '^  crass  Materialism."     My  present 
point,  however,  is  that  this  coarse  and  vulgar  theory 
is  by  no  means  the  only  form  of  Materialism.     Ncr 
is  it   the  form   under  which  Materialism   is    most 
potently  working  in  the  world  just  now.     The  more 
subtle  doctrines  which  have  arisen  upon  the  ruins  oi 
the  old  materialistic  hypothesis  are,  in  all  essentials, 
identical  with  it.     Positivism,    Phenomenism,   and 
much  that  passes  current  as  Agnosticism,  are  mere 
varieties  of  Materialism ;  sublimated  expressions  of 
it,  perhaps,  but  true  expressions,  having  in  them 
the  root  of  the  matter. 

Now  here  I  am  conscious  of  a  difficvdty.  Is  it 
fair,  one  may  be  asked,  to  impose  the  name  of 
Materialist  upon  those  who,  more  or  less  energeti- 
cally, repudiate  it  ?  I  think  it  is  fair,  and,  more, 
that  it  is  a  duty,  if  the  name  truly  describes  them. 
Take,  for  example,  the  late  Mr.  Clifford.  As  we 
have  just  seen,  he  rejects,  emphatically,  "  the  crass 
Materialism  of  the  savage";  but  only  to  substitute  for 


I 


it  a  ]\Iatcrialisin  whicli  is,  indeed,  more  refined,  but 
which  is  also,  as  it  seems  to  me,  more  irrationah 
His  biographer.  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,*  claims  that 
his   view   is,    in  truth,    "  idealist  monism,   a  very 
subtle  form  of   idealism,"  and  points  out  that  his 
conception  of  the  ultimate  reality  is  "mind;  not 
mind   as    we  know   it   in   the   complex   forms   of 
thought  and  feeling,  but  the  simpler  elements  out 
of  which  thought  and  feeling  are  built  up."     Well, 
of  course,  Materialism  affects  to  be  monistic,  for  it 
seeks   to   explain  the  whole  universe  in  terms  of 
matter.     But  how  is  Mr.  Clifford's  monism  idealis- 
tic ?     The  element,  of  Avhich   "  even  the  simplest 
feeling    is    a    complex,"    he    calls    "mind-stuff." 
"  Matter,"    he   tell   us,    "  is  the  mental  picture  of 
which   mind   is   the   thing   represented.      Reason, 
intelligence,  and  volition  arc  properties  of  a  com- 
plex, which  is  made  up  of  elements  themselves  not 
rational,    not   intelligent,    not    conscious."      Is    it 
pos.sible,  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  himself  being  judge, 
to  call  this  doctrine  idealism  ?     This  "  mind-stuff," 
which,  we  are  told,  is  the  thing-in-itself,  of  which 
"  a  moving  molecule  of  organic  matter  possesses  a 
small  piece,"  and  which,  "  when  matter  takes  the 
complex  form  of  a  living  human  brain,  takes  the 
form  of  a  human  consciousness,  having  intelligence 
and  volition  "~how  is  it  possible  to  account  of  this 
"  mind-stuff  "  as  anything  but  matter? 

*  Soo  his  very  interesting  Introduction  to  L'ctiires  and  Essays 
by  tlic  late  William  Kingdon  Clifford,"  p.  39. 


10 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


I.] 


THE  UNKNOWN  AND  UNKXOWABLE. 


11 


Again,  consider  the  tcacliing  of  Professor  Huxley. 
With  wliatever  rhetorical  ornaments  he  may  gild  it, 
what  is   its  practical   outcome  but   Materialism?* 
I  am  Avell  aware  of  his  opinion  that  the  question 
"  whether  there  is  really  anything  anthropomorphic, 
even  in  man's  nature,"  will  ever  remain  an  open 
one.     I  do  not  lose  sight  of  his  recognition  of  "  the 
necessity  of  cherishing  the  noblest  and  most  human 
of  man's  emotions  by  worship,  for  the  most  part  of 
the  silent  sort,  at  the  altar  of  the  Unknown    and 
Unknowable."    But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  remember 
his   positive    declaration   that    ''  consciousness  is  a 
function   of   nervous   matter,    when   that    nervous 
matter  has  attained  a  certain  degree  of  organisa- 
tion."    I  remember,  too,  his  confident  anticipation 
that ''  we  shall  sooner  or  later  arrive  at  a  mechanical 
equivalent  of  consciousness,  just  as  we  have  arrived 
at  a  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat."     And  I  do  not 
forget    that    singularly    powerful    passage    in    his 
Laf/    Sermons — who    that   has    once   read   it   can 
foro-et  it?— in  whicli  he   enforces  what  he  deems 
^^the  great   truth,"  that  ''the  progress  of  science 
has,  in  all  ages,  meant,  and  now,  more  than  ever, 
means,  the  extension  of  the  province  of  what  we 
call   matter    and    causation,    and   the   concomitant 
o-radual    banishment,    from   all   regions    of   human 
thought,  of  what  we  call  spirit  and  spontaneity ;  " 
that,  ''  as  surely  as  every  future  grows  out  of  past 
and  present,  so  will  the  physiology  of  the  future 

*  See  the  Appendix^  pp.  245-262. 


• 


i 


gradually  extend  the  realm  of  matter  and  law  until 
it  is  co-extensive  with  knowledge,  with  feeling,  and 

with  action." 

Once   more.     Let   us    turn    to    a   teacher   more 
widely  influential,  perhaps,  than  even  Mr.  Huxley. 
I  mean  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.     He,  too,  recognises 
^^an  Unknown   and   Unknowable    Power   without 
beo-innino;  or  end  in  time."     He  tells  us  expressly, 
in  his  Fsycliology,  that  consciousness  cannot  be  a 
mode  of  movement,  and  that  if  we  must  choose 
between  these  two  modes  of  being,  as  the  genera- 
tive and  primitive  mode,  it  would  be  the  first,  and 
not  the  last,  which  he  would  choose.     These  say- 
ings certainly  do  not   sound  like  Materialism.     I 
think,    however,    that   if    we  closely   examine   his 
writino-s,  we  shall  find  the  persistence  of  force  his 
one  formula.     With  that— if  you  will  permit  him 
to  use  it  in  a  double  sense -he  will  bring  for  you 
life  out  of   the   non-living;    morality   out   of   the 
unmoral ;  the  psychical  out  of  the  physical.     True 
it    is    that   this    ^' force "    is    presented   to  us    as 
a  manifestation    of   the   Unknowable.      But  what 
difference  can  the  Unknowable  make  to  the  mass  of 
men  ?     I  am  far  from  denying  that  to  Mr.  Spencer 
himself,  and  his  more  subtle  and  refined  disciples,  it 
may  make  a  great  deal  of  difference,  to  be  able  to 
turn  from  his  speculative  physics,   to  worship,  in 
taciturnity,  they  know  not  wliat.     But  systems  of 
philosophy  penetrate  the  general  mind,  and  exercise 
influence  over  the  vast  mass  of  men,  who  are  not 


1 


12 


THE  ClUSrS  OF  ETHICS. 


[cii- 


1.] 


NAMES  AND  THINGS. 


13 


subtle  and  refined.  And,  unquestionably,  the  por- 
tion of  Mr.  Spencer's  pliiloso2:)liy  wliicli  is  most 
widely  received,  and  believed,  is  not  his  doctrine 
of  the  Unknowable.  ''  Parson,  this  is  no  time 
for  conundrums,"  said  the  dying  Confederate 
soldier,  to  the  minister  of  religion,  who  inquired, 
'^  Do  you  believe  in  God?  "  To  the  vast  majority 
of  the  combatants  in  the  battle  of  life,  Mr.  Spencer's 
Unknowable  must  be  a  mere  conundrum  ;  and  they 
give  it  up.  For  them,  his  teaching  assumes  the 
form  of  a  crude  disbelief  in  wliatever  lies  out  of 
the  senses'  grasp.  He  calls  his  system  ^^transfigured 
realism."  But  the  multitude  are,  and  ever  must 
be,  plain  realists.  I  feel  very  sure  that  tlie  prac- 
tical effect  of  Mr.  Spencer's  philosophy  has  been,  to 
promote  the  elevation  of  materialism  into  the 
reigning  creed  of  the  day  in  the  English-speaking 
races.  That  all  beings,  all  modes  and  forms  of 
existence,  are  but  transformations  of  force,  obeying 
only  mechanical  laws,  the  laws  of  movement — this, 
assuredly,  is  what  Mr.  Spencer's  doctrine  prac- 
tically amounts  to,  if  there  is  any  meaning  in 
words.  He,  indeed,  protests  against  tlie  application 
to  matter  of  such  epithets  as  ''  gross"  or  '^  brute." 
He  delights  to  expatiate  on  its  wonderful  proper- 
ties ;  and  in  his  latest  work  he  speaks  of  '^a  universe 
everywhere  alive ;  alive,  if  not  in  a  restricted 
sense,  at  least  in  a  general  sense."  Still  the  fact 
remains  that  Mr.  Spencer  seeks  to  interpret  all 
things    in  terms  of  matter  and  motion,  and  holds 


I 


life  to  be  a  mere  result  of  physical  forces.  There 
are  only  two  conceivable  hypotheses  open  to  us.* 
Either  Nature  is  the  outcome  of  Intellect,  or  Intel- 
lect is  the  outcome  of  Nature.  Mr.  Spencer's 
teaching,  considered  as  a  whole,  is  an  elaborate 
argument  on  behalf  of  the  latter  of  these  hypotheses, 
xind  what  is  this  but  Materialism  ? 

Mr.  Spencer,  indeed,  calls  himself  a  Eealist.    Pro- 
fessor Huxley  is  sometimes  called  an  Idealist :  a  de- 
scription which  he  would  doubtless  reject,  although 
there  are  certain  passages  in  his  writings  which  war- 
rant it.t     And,  as  we  have  seen,  the  friend  who  has 
written  so  well  about  the  late  Professor  Clifford,  calls 
him  an  Idealistic  Monist.    Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  in- 
deed, goes  on  to  observe,  ^'It  is  hardly  worth  while 
to  dispute  about  names,  wlien  more  serious  things 
remain  for  discussion."     These  words  seem  to  me 
in  themselves  a  revelation,  not,  indeed,  of  light, 
but  of  darkness ;   they  give  us  a  glimpse  of  chaos 
and  the  void  inane.     Surely  names  are  the  signs 
of,  nay  the  substitutes  for,  ideas ;  formulas  summing 
up  for  us,  briefly,  it  may  be  a  train  of  reasoning, 
a  series  of  sensations,  a  multitude  of  images.     Un- 
less we  use  them  as  parrots  do,  which,  to  be  sure, 
is  the  habit  of  many  people,  they  stand  to  us  in 
the  place  of  things.     Hence  the  immense  import- 
ance, upon  which  I  have  already  touched,  of  exact 
terminology.      If   our  nomenclature  is  vague,   we 
shall  be  continually  mistaking  one  thing  for  another. 

*  See  p.  G3.  t  ^ee  the  Appendix,  pp.  242,  253. 


f 

r 


14 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


!•] 


TWO  SCHOOLS  OF  THOUGHT. 


15 


''  Pantlieisiu  or  Pottlieism — what  matter,  so  long 
as  it  is  true  ?  "  Mr.  Carlyle  asked.  But  my  present 
inquiry  is  not  if  tlie  teaching,  Avlietlier  of  the 
L^te  Mr.  Clifford,  of  Mr.  Huxley,  of  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer,  is  true,  but  what  that  teaching  really  is. 
And  my  contention  is  that  all  these  three  gifted 
men,  whom  I  select  as  types  of  a  host  of  less 
famous  writers  widely  influential  on  English 
thouaht,  must  in  strictness  be  reckoned  as  Mate- 
rialists.  All  three  do,  in  effect,  restrict  our  know- 
ledge to  the  phenomenal  universe,  of  Avhich  con- 
sciousness and  will  are,  for  them,  fortuitous  or 
necessary  products.  All  three  do,  in  effect,  teach 
that  the  laws  of  thought,  are,  in  the  last  resort, 
only  sensations,  or  induced  tendencies  of  the 
nervous  system.  All  three  do,  in  effect,  express 
the  entire  man  by  matter,  his  intellectual  and  moral 
being  as  well  as  his  corporal  frame.  Now  I  am 
far  from  asserting  that  there  is  anj'thing  to  prevent 
us  from  being  spiritualists  in  psychology,  while  in 
cosmology  we  accept  the  dynamical  explanation, 
and  confess  that  everywhere  in  the  universe  are 
forces  and  centres  of  forces.  But  that  is  very 
different  from  the  view  which  regards  intellect 
as  a  mode  of  motion,  or  as  a  manifestation  of  phy- 
sical energy.  '*  The  faculties  of  the  mind,  feeling 
and  will,"  writes  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison,  '*  are 
directly  dependent  upon  the  physical  organs.  To 
talk  to  me  of  mind,  feeling,  will,  in  the  absence  of 
physical  organs,  is  to  use  language  which  to  me. 


i 


at  least,  is  pure  nonsense."  Mr.  Harrison's  creed, 
it  would  appear,  may  be  summed  up  in  the  simple 
symbol,  ^^I  believe  in  the  brain,  the  viscera,  and 
the  reproductive  apparatus."  He  cannot  conceive 
of  Deity  save  as  abdominous.  This  very  elo- 
quent and  very  positive  writer  has  the  courage 
of  his  opinions.  But,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  doc- 
trines of  Professor  Clifford,  of  Professor  Huxley,  of 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  in  their  ultimate  resolution, 
are  substantially  at  one  with  his.  Whatever  dif- 
ferences divide  these  eminent  men  from  one 
another,  they  all  agree  in  putting  aside,  as  un- 
verifiable,  everything  which  the  senses  cannot 
verify ;  everything  beyond  the  bounds  of  physical 
science ;  everything  which  cannot  be  brought  into 
a  laboratory  and  dealt  with  chemically.^"  Their  new 
Phenomenism  is  simply  old  Materialism,  decked 
out  in  inconoTuous  metaphysical  trappings,  bor- 
rowed chiefly  from  Hume  and  Kant.  It  will  be 
found,  I  say,  in  the  long  run,  that  there  are  two, 
and  only  two  schools  of  thought,  which  I  shall 
denominate  Transcendentalism  and  Materialism, 
until  better  terms  are  forthcoming.  Transcen- 
dentalism looks  beyond  experience  for  the  explana- 
tion of  the  universe,  and  holds  it  as  a  fundamental 
truth  tliat  the  nature  of  our  thinking  being  imposes 

*  Sueli  appears  to  me  the  inevitable  logical  issue  of  the  proposi- 
tions to  which  thev  have  committed  tlieinselves  :  and  I  maintain 
that  we  have  a  right,  nay,  that  Ave  are  bound,  to  debit  them  with  the 
consequences  of  their  own  premises.     See  the  Appendix,  pp.  256-8. 


l() 


THE  ClUSIS  OF  ETHICS, 


[CH. 


^•] 


THE  ADVANCE  OF  MATEllIALISM. 


17 


our  way  of  conceiving,   of  valuing,   and    even  of 
apprehending  sensible  things.     Materialism   main- 
tains that  in  those  sensible  things  must  l)e  sought 
the   explanaticm   of   our   ideas   and    of    our   wills. 
Transcendentalism  postulates  a  First  Cause  possess- 
ing perfect  freedom,  and  recognises  true  causality 
in  man   also,  with  his  endowment  of  limited  and 
conditioned  liberty  of  the  will.     Materialism  holds 
that   we    can   know   nothing   beyond    phenomena, 
denies  causation,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word, 
and  demands,  in  the  words  of  Mr.   Huxley,   'Hhc 
banishment  from  all  regions  of  human  thought  of 
what  we  call   spirit  and  spontaneity."     Transcen- 
dentalism  insists  upon  the  unity  of  our  conscious- 
ness, upon  the  IchhcU  clcs  Ego—iha  selfliood  of  the 
]\Xe — as   the    original    and   ultimate   fact   of  man's 
existence.      Materialism  dissolves  the   Ego   into   a 
stream    of    sensations,    makes    of    consciousness    an 
accidental  and  superficial  effect  of  mechanism,  and 
exhibits  man  as  a  mere  sequence  of  physical  action 
and   reaction.       Transcendentalism    maintains    tlie 
absolute  nature  of  ethics :  the  imnmtable  distinction 
between  moral  good  and  moral  evil.     Materialism 
refers   everything   to   heredity,    temperament,    en- 
vironment, convention.     Transcendentalism  affirms 
the   supersenuous,    yes,    let   us   venture    upon    the 
word,  the  supernatural,  in  man,  and  finds  irrefra- 
irable  evidence  of  it  in 

"  this  main  miracle,  that  thou  art  thou, 
"With  power  on  thine  own  act,  and  on  the  work!." 


1 


Materialism  makes  of  the  soul,  with  Professor  Tyn- 
dall,  ^^  a  2)oetical  rendering  of  a  phenomenon  which 
refuses  the  yoke  of  ordinary  mechanical  laws," 
explains  will  and  conscience  as  merely  a  little  force 
and  heat  organised,  and,  in  Coleridge's  pungent 
l^hrase,  '^  peeps  into  death  to  look  for  life,  as 
monkeys  put  their  hands  behind  a  looking-glass." 
Such  are  the  two  schools  of  thought  which  are 
dividing  tlie  intellect  of  the  world. 


Now,  I  take  it,  that  one  of  the  most  striking 
signs  of  the  times  is  the  extent  to  which  Material- 
ism has  triumphed  throughout  Europe.  Fifty  or 
sixty  years  ago  it  might  well  have  seemed  as  though 
Kant  Iiad  made  an  end  in  Germany  of  the  doctrine 
which,  derived  by  the  philosophes  of  the  last  cen- 
tury from  Locke,  had  been  carried  to  its  logical 
issue  by  Cabanis  and  Condillac.  In  England  the 
school  of  Reid  Avas,  in  some  sort,  doing  a  similar 
w^ork.  In  France  the  influence  of  Royer  Collard, 
Maine  de  Biran,  Jouffroy,  and  Cousin— all,  what- 
ever their  differences,  firmly  attached  to  the  main 
principles  of  Transcendentalism — was  dominant. 
In  Italy  the  works  of  Pasquale  Galuppi  had  dift'used 
some  knowledge  of  the  critical  philosophy,  and 
Rosmini's  New  Essay  on  the  Origin  of  Ideas  had 
nuide  its  way  into  many  seminaries.  Now,  all  is 
changed.  In  Germany  a  school  has  arisen  based 
on  the  empirical  doctrines  supposed  to  have  been 


18 


TEU  aiasis  OF  ethics. 


[on. 


for  ever  discarded,  but  <2:ivin":  to  tlicm  a  new  and 
more  precise  form.  Of  its  many  able  exponents  it 
must  suffice  here  to  mention  only  one,  llerr 
liiiclmerj  Avliose  book  on  Force  and  Mailer  has  had 
an  immense  success  in  his  own  country,  and  has 
been  transhited,  I  believe,  into  well-nigh  all 
European  languages.  M.  Janet,  no  mean  judge, 
reckons  it  ^Hhe  tersest,  frankest,  and  clearest 
system  of  Materialism  which  has  appeared  in 
Europe  since  the  famous  Systcnic  de  la  Nalitre.^^  It 
is  true  that  in  Germany  the  influence  of  these  new 
Materialistic  doctrines  would  appear  to  be  on  the 
wane.  They  are  not  specially  fitted  to  recommend 
themselves  to  the  Teutonic  mind,  with  its  innate 
bias  to  idealism.  And  they  have  been  vigorously 
combated  by  a  number  of  extremely  able  writers, 
foremost  anion";  whom  must  be  reckoned  Lan<>e 
and  Hartmann,  Ulrici  and  Lotze.  Yet  no  one  can 
carefully  study  contemporary  German  literature 
without  perceiving  how  potential  still  is  the  school 
which  relies  wholly  upon  the  positive  sciences,  and 
puts  aside  entirely  psychology  and  metaphysics. 
Its  prevalence  in  England  may  be  sufficiently  indi- 
cated by  merely  mentioning  the  names  of  the  three 
accomplished  scientists  at  whose  teaching  we  have 
already  glanced,  the  late  Professor  Clifford,  Pro- 
fessor Huxley,  and  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  not  to 
speak  of  Professor  Tyndall.  But  if  we  would  sec 
this  way  of  thinking  have  free  course,  if  we  would 
fully  realise  the  inglorious  liberty  of  the   sons   of 


i.] 


SCIENTIFIC  MATEUIALISM. 


19 


matter,  it  is  upon  France  that  Ave  nmst  gaze.     In 
that    country,    at   the   present   moment,    the  most 
Avidely  influential  school  is  unquestionably  the  me- 
dico-atheistic:   the  school  which  inculcates  sensism 
of  the  grossest  kind,   which  reeks  of  the  brothel 
and  the  torture  trough.     ^^  A  very  superficial  and 
gross  Positivism,"   M.   Beaussire   tells   us,  '' seems 
to  have  taken  possession  of  well-nigh  all  souls."  * 
A  remnant,  indeed,  is  left  in  the  higher  reo-ions  of 
French  thought,  wliicli  has  not  bowled  the  knee  to 
the    Baal    of    Dead    Mechanism,   nor  joined   itself 
to   the  Dung   God.      But  unquestionably  the  two 
greatest  intellectual  forces  in  France  at  the  present 
time  are  M.  Penan  and  M.  Taine,  neither  of  whom 
can  be  claimed  by  Transcendentalism.  I  do  not  lose 
sight   of  the  many  magnificent  passages  in  which 
M.  Penan  pays  homage  to  the  supersensuous,  the 
ideal,  tlie  divine.     Yet  there  is  ever  before  him  the 
haunting    suspicion    that,  after  all,  Gavroche  may 
be  right;    that  ''jouir  et   mepriser  "  may  be    the 
last  word  of  tlie  true  philosopher.     There  are  those 
wlio  find  the  secret  of  his  transitions  of  thouo-ht,  in 
the  famous  mot  of  M.  Sardou's  corned v,  '^  J'ai  asscz 
pratique  le  monde  pour  savoir  qu'on  n'a  jamais  que 
la  conviction  de  ses  interets."      There  are  those, 
again,  who  tell  us,  that  in  his  profound  and  serene 

''  Lc^  Pruicipes  de  la  Morale,  p.  4.  TIic  extremely  striking 
Introduction — Avliencc  my  citation  is  tiiken— attracted  much  notice 
wlien  it  appeared  originally  in  the  lierue  des  Deux  Mondcs  of 
August  1,  1884. 

c2 


20 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


intellect,  every  passing  phase  of  contemporary  sj^ecu- 
lation  is  reflected,  like  the  clouds  in  the  bosom  of  the 
calm  ocean.     I  am  not  ambitious  to   decide  which 
explanation  is  the  true  one.     It  is  enougli  for  me 
to   point  to  his  own   account  of  himself,  which  is 
tliat   he    does   not   know  whether    or   no  he   is  a 
Materialist.     '^  Jc  ne  sais  bien  si  je  suis  spiritualiste 
ou  matcrialiste.    Le  but  dumonde,  c'estTidee  :  mais 
je  ne  connais  pas  un  cas  ou  Tidee  se  soit  jn'oduite  sans 
maticre  :  je  ne  connais  pas  d'esprit  pur,  ni  d'oeuvre 
d'esprit  pur."     M.   Taine  has   of  late   years  been 
most   prominently   before   the    world    as   the   first 
living   historian    of   his    country,    perhaps    of   any 
country.      But  Ave  must  not  forget  that  liis  high 
place,  among  contemporary  tliinkers,  was  first  won 
as  a  philosopher.      A   closely  knit  system   his  is, 
indeed.      But    w^iat  a  system!     A   system  of  me- 
chanism  and  fatality,  dealing  with  the  universe  as 
an  immense  and  eternal  series  of  visible  movements, 
more    or    less   complex,   all  reduciljle    to  invisible 
movements,  obeying  the  laws  of  pliysics.     Keason, 
Intelligence,   Will,   Personality  are  for    him   mere 
metaphors.     He  explains  them  by  mechanism  and 
movement.     The  intellect  he  regards  as  a  thinking 
machine,  just  as  the  stomach  is  a  digesting  machine. 
He  will  speak  of  the  soul,  if  you  please  ;  but,  like 
Mr.  Tyndall,  he  warns  you,  that  you  must  take  it 
merely  as  a  poetical  expression,  a  rhetorical  figure. 
With  reason  did   Michelet,   after  reading   his    ad- 
mirably written  book  Ou  Litelligencc^  exclaim  in 


- 


I.] 


POPULAR  MATERIALISM. 


21 


dismay,  '^  II  me  prend  mon  moi.''  Franco,  after 
all,  is  still  the  country  in  which  the  movements  of 
the  European  mind  may  be  most  fruitfully  studied. 
If  Germany  is  the  mine  of  ideas,  France  it  is  which 
mints  them  and  makes  them  current  coin.  Intel- 
lectually considered,  Italy  and  Spain  are  little  more 
than  outlying  provinces  of  France,  and  her  influence 
upon  English  and  Teutonic  thinkers,  if  less  magis- 
terial, is  hardly  less  effective. 

I  consider,  then,  that  if  w^e  survey  the  higher 
thought  of  Europe,  as  a  w^iole,  we  must  find  it 
largely  given  over  to  Materialism.  And  if  w^e  turn 
to  the  more  popular  literature,  in  which  is  the  truest 
expression  of  society,  the  same  tale  is  unfolded. 
How  largely  has  it  lost  itself  in  a  so-called 
^^  realism,"  devoid  of  that  ethical  sentiment,  with- 
out which,  Goethe  has  well  observed,  ''the  actual  is 
tlie  vulgar,  the  low",  the  gross."  The  art  of  the 
novelist  in  particular,  how  very  generally  is  it 
degraded  to  the  delineation  of  what  the  author  of 
Saplio — no  mean  authority  on  such  a  subject — 
calls  ^^  ces  amours  de  chair  ;  "  those  merely  animal 
loves,  wherein,  he  tells  us,  ''there  is  no  esteem, 
no  respect  for  the  object  of  the  passion,  and 
brutality  ever  w^ells  up,  whether  in  anger  or  in 
caresses."  What  a  portent  is  that  large  and  ever- 
growling  school  of  ^' naturalistic  "  fiction  of  which 
M.  Zola  is  the  honoured  and  prosperous  chief,  and 
which  is  so  eagerly  read,  and  so  largely  imitated, 
throughout   the   civilised   world!      '^Toute    meta- 


22 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


physique  m'epouvantc  "  tins  master  tells  us.  His 
works,  he  claims,  are  conceived  in  the  true  '^  scien- 
tific "  spirit.  Matter  is  for  him  the  only  reality, 
and  in  its  honour  he  raises  paeans  ^^like  the  shrieks 
of  a  hya3na  at  disco vxTing  that  the  universe  is  all 
actually  carrion."  But  it  is  not  merely  in  the 
literature  of  the  erotic  passion,  of  the  genetic 
impulse,  that  the  mark  of  the  beast  is  plainly 
visible.  How  many  a  grave  writer  of  our  day  has 
acquired  a  reputation  for  originality,  simply  upon 
the  strength  of  a  fantastic  physical  terminology. 
Instead  of  intellect,  he  speaks  of  nervous  centres ; 
instead  of  life,  of  the  ])lay  of  cellular  activities ; 
instead  of  mental  eneri]:v,  of  cerebral  erethism. 
And  his  readers,  piquing  themselves  on  their  distrust 
of  everything  outside  the  sphere  of  what  they  call 
facts,  ''wonder  with  a  foolish  face  of  praise."  In 
truth  every  branch  of  intellectual  activity  l)ears 
witness  to  the  advance  of  Materialism  in  the 
popular  mind ;  to  the  dying  out  of  the  old  spiritual 
and  ideal  types.  Thus,  in  politics,  we  see  the 
domination  of  the  brute  force  of  numbers,  of  ma- 
jorities told  by  head,  becoming  almost  everywhere 
an  accomplished  fact.  The  instincts  and  passions 
of  the  masses  are  accepted  as  the  supreme  law, 
in  the  place  of  justice  and  virtue,  of  reason  and 
religion.  Art,  too,  has  bowed  her  sacred  head  to 
the  Materialistic  yoke.  Tlie  true  function  of  the 
artist,  as  of  the  metaphysician,  is  to  seek  the  reason 
and  essence  of  things.    But  while  to  the  philosopher 


L 


. 


I.] 


MATERIALISM  AND  ART. 


23 


this  reason  and  essence  are  revealed  in  a  principle, 
in  a  general  conception,  to  the  artist  they  are 
revealed  in  a  concrete  form,  as  individual  beauty. 
]3oth  are  seekers  after  trutli ;  but  the  beautiful  is 
the  splendour  of  the  true,  and  the  sense  of  beauty  is 
the  light  of  the  intellect.  Materialism  quenches 
tliat  light.  All  that  the  artist  now  usually  aims  at, 
is  to  copy  exactly,  to  re2)roduce  phenomena.  And 
here,  indeed,  he  attains  some  measure  of  success, 
especially  if  the  jAenomena  be  of  the  lupanarian 
order.  AVell  has  Mr.  Ruskin  pronounced  the  art 
of  our  own  time  to  be  ^^  a  poor  toy,  petty  or  vile." 
Perhaps  its  portraits  are  its  most  valuable  achieve- 
ment. But  their  value  is  ratiier  historical  than 
artistic ;  they  tell  tlieir  own  tale  about  the  men  and 
women  of  the  age.  What  that  tale  is,  a  distinguished 
French  critic  not  long  ago  pointed  out.  They  are 
the  abstract  and  brief  chronicle,  he  observed,  in 
which  is  VvTitten  the  spiritual  history  of  our  century. 
During  the  first  half  of  it,  the  neck  is  thrown  back, 
the  head  is  upturned  towards  heaven,  as  if  in  quest 
of  some  ideal  vision.  As  we  draw  towards  our  own 
days,  the  neck  contracts,  the  head  sinks  nearer  the 
shoulders,  as  though  by  the  instinctive  movement 
of  a  bull  gathering  himself  up  for  the  combat.  It 
is  because  the  battle  of  life  has  become  more  intense, 
because  the  mind  is  concentrated  upon  the  material 
interests  of  the  world.  The  habit  of  thought — 
curious  verification  of  a  law  of  Darwin's — has 
transformed  the  physical  habit.     A  most  delicate 


'-.'w*-'^'"""  V-^-'*"^. 


-  ™%s^^We™^  '■"  '*■■  -^^  4i|jpi  -^''^,  = ,  .^^, , 


\ 


24 


T5^^  r/i2J,STi9  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


I.] 


MATERIALISM  AND  PENAL  LAW. 


25 


and  sensitive  intellect— to  whom  Britisli  Philistin- 
ism, with  its  ^^  certitude  de  mauvais  gout,"  has 
hirg-ely  paid  the  homage  of  its  contumely  and  scorn 
— notes  the  same  fact  in  his  own  way.  The 
substitution  of  the  laws  of  dead  matter  for  the  laws 
of  the  moral  nature,  the  subjection  of  the  soul  to 
things,  ^^ecraser  Thomme  spirituel,  depersonaliser 
riiomme "  is,  as  Amiel  discerned,  tlie  dominant 
tendency  of  the  times.  It  appears  to  me  that  if 
you  survey  the  civilised  world  you  find  everywhere 
the  same  tokens.  Everywhere  I  note  the  practical 
triumph  of  that  earth-to-earth  philosophy  Avhich 
will  see  nothing  beyond  "  experience,"  which  shuts 
off  the  approach  of  science  to  all  that  cannot  bo 
weighed  and  measured.  Everywhere  literature  and 
art  are  losing  themselves  in  the  most  vulgar  sen- 
suousness.  Look  throughout  Europe,  and  Avhat,  in 
every  country,  are  the  great  majority  of  the 
educated  classes,  who  give  the  tone  to  the  rest  ? 
Sceptics  in  religion,  doubters  in  ethics,  given  over 
to  industrialism,  and  to  the  exact  sciences  which 
minister  to  it,  respecting  nothing  but  accomplished 
fact  and  palpable  force,  with  nerves  more  sensitive 
than  their  hearts,  seeking  to  season  the  platitude  of 
existence  by  a  more  cr  less  voluptuous  rcstheticism, 
a  more  or  less  prurient  hedonism.  Such  are  the 
men  of  this  new  age.  The  intellectual  atmosphere 
is  charged  with  Materialism :  and  wo  may  see  the 
effects  of  its  corroding  action  in  all  the  most  im- 
portant departments  of  human  life. 


Consider  only  two.  The  bond  of  civil  society  is 
obedience  to  law,  fenced  round  Avith  penalties ;  but 
legislation  rests  upon  the  doctrine  of  human  respon- 
sibility. '^AVill,"  Kant  tells  us,  ^^  is  a  kind  of 
causality  belonging  to  living  agents  in  so  far  as 
they  are  rational ;  and  freedom  is  such  a  property 
of  causality  as  enables  them  to  be  efficient  agents 
independently  of  outside  causes  determining  them  ; 
as,  on  the  other  hand,  necessity  is  that  propertj^  of 
all  irrational  beings,  which  consists  in  their  beinir 
determined  to  activity  by  the  influence  of  outside 
causes."*  This  conception  of  human  freedom  under- 
lies the  notion  of  crime.  Yes ;  the  sense  of  crime 
is  bound  up  with  the  belief  in  man's  power  of 
choice,  and  in  his  obligation  to  choose  rightly. 
Where  there  is  no  faculty  to  judge  of  acts,  as  right 
or  wrong,  and  to  elect  l^etween  them,  as  in  a  young 
child  or  a  lunatic,  there  is  no  criminal  responsibility, 
for  tlierc  are  no  free  persons.  Personality  manifests 
itself  under  the  condition  of  free  will,  influenced 
l)ut  not  coerced  l)y  motives;  a  will  which  has 
i]\Q  power  of  choice  between  two  alternative  courses. 
Without  that  power,  assuredly,  there  is  no  moral 
accountability.  Ought  is  a  meaningless  word  with- 
out Can.  Now  every  school  and  variety  of  Mate- 
rialism does,  in  eflfect,  deny  free  will,  be  the  denial 
more  or  less  direct,  more  or  less  veiled. t     Either 

'^   Grundlegiinfj  zur  Metaphisih  der  Sitten.     Drittcr  Absclinitt. 

t  Tliup,  ]\[i'.  Clifford,  in  words,  admits  man's  free  agency  ;  but, 
in  fact,  lie  reduces  it  to  the  mere  shadow  of  a  great  name.  It  is  with 
him  nothing  but  the  consciousness  of  being  attracted,  not  propelled. 


26 


THE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[en. 


!•] 


LEGES  SINE  MOUIBUS  VANjE. 


27 


wc  arc  prosciitod  Avitli  tlio  a  postcrhrl  ai-uniont, 
so  elaborately  worked  out  by  Buckle,  which  aims 
at  establishin^q.,  by  the  aid  of  statistics,  that  what 
we  call  morality  is  subject  to  fixed  laws,  like  the 
course  of  the  stars  or  the  return   of  the  seasons  • 
that  what  wc  call  virtue  and  rice  are  the  results 
of  physical  causes,  as  regular  as  those  which  rule 
the  germination    of   plants    or   the  procreation   of 
annuals.     Or  the  a  priori  road  is  followed,  and  we 
are  told  that  though  we  can  determine  our  actions 
according  to  our  wishes,  we  cannot  determine  our 
wishes.     The  will— what  wc  call  will— is  exhibited 
to  us  as  always  governed  by  the  strongest  motives, 
the  force  of  which  is  not  due  to  us,  for  we  suffer 
them,  we  do  not   originate  them.     Do  wo  replv 
''  True   indeed  ;     but   though    we    do    not    create 
motives,  we  have  in  our  own  hands  the  culture  of 
the  will;  we  are  the  architects  of  our  own  diaracters 
because  character  is  formed   l)y  acts,  is  in  fact  a 
eham  of    acts,   and  it  rests  with  us  to  for-e  the 
first  link  of  that  chain  -  ?     The  rejoinder  is,^-  You 
beg  the  question.     That  first  act  was   determined 
by  motives ;  it  was  produced  by  the   influence  of 
the  strongest  of  the  external  causes.    Your  so-called 
tree  will  is  an  illusion;  it  is  really  the  sum  of  the 
many  mfiuences,  of  various  kinds,  wliich  have  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  a  man,  not  merely  individu- 
ally,  but  during  tlie  countless  generations  of   his 
existence  in  his  ancestors.     These  have   oiven  to 
his  soul-whatwe  poetically  call  soul-its^charac 


.1 


teristic  ply.  '  Such  as  we  are  made  of,  such  we  be.' 
What  we  call  virtue  and  vice  are,  in  M.  Taine's 
striking  phrase,  ^  merely  products,  like  sugar  and 
vitriol.'  They  are  mainly  the  outcome  of  hereditJ^ 
Francis  of  Assisi  was  necessarily  a  saint.  Eccelino 
was  necessarily  a  monster.  Alexander  Borgia  could 
not  by  any  means  have  become  a  Savonarola,  nor 
Savonarola  an  Alexander  Borgia,  ^  A  poor  devil  can't 
command  courage  any  more  than  he  can  make  himself 
six  feet  high,'  says  Colonel  Newcome,  in  extenua- 
tion of  the  cowardice  of  his  nephew  Barnes.  No  : 
nor  can  he  command  purity,  or  piety,  or  pitifulness. 
To  doubt  the  necessary  nature  of  an  action,  when 
a  given  motive  is  presented  to  a  given  character, 
is  really,  every  Avhit  as  absurd  as  to  doubt 
that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal 
to  two  right  angles."  The  conclusion  to  which 
]\ratcrialism,  in  all  its  schools,  is  inevitably  led,  is 
that  will  is  not  what  Kant  has  defined  it,  but  only 
a  word  to  hide  our  ignorance  of  causation,  a  mo- 
dality of  instinctive  acts,  accompanied  by  a  certain 
degree  of  sensation.  But  '^with  what  is  called  meta- 
physical liberty,  with  freedom  of  volition,  merit 
and  demerit  disappear  too.  Human  causality, 
human  spontaneity,  human  responsibility,  all  die 
before  the  '  uncreating  word  '  of  Materialism.  Its 
doctrine  of  absolute  irresponsibility  makes  an  end 
of  crime  ;  its  penal  legislation  can  be  nothing  but 
leges  sine  morihus  vance.  For  the  sting  of  punish- 
ment is  not  the  actual  fact — '^  stone  walls  do  not  a 


28 


THU  CIIISIS  OF  ETIIirS. 


[CH, 


I.] 


MATEBIALLSM  AND  MAURI  AGE. 


29 


i:)rison    make  " — but    the   moral    disapprohatlon  ci 
wliicli   the  fact  is    evidence,     l^ut  liow  visit  witli 
moral  disapprobation  those  who  Avere  incapable  of 
doing  anything  but  what  they  did  ?     Poor  victims 
of  temperament,  of  hci'edity,  of  enviromnent,  they 
are  to  be  jiitied,  not  blanied ;    while,  indeed,  we 
seclude  them  for  tlie  protection  of  our  persons  and 
l^ockets;  for  w^e  are  the  numerical  majority,  we  can 
appeal  to  the  ullima  ratio  of  force,  if  to  nothino- 
higher.     It  is  no   fancy  picture  wliich   I   am  now 
drawing.      Fifty  years  ago  Balzac  wrote,  'Crime 
has  been  made  poetical ;  tears   are  drivelled  over 
assassins.'      True  as  liis  words  were  tlien,  tliey  are 
even  truer  now.     The  idea  of  law  as  the  embodied 
conscience    of   a  nation  of   persons,   the   belief   in 
justice,  in  the  old  sense,  as  something  quite  tran- 
scending  mere    expediency — fiat  justitla  pevcat 
mundiis — llie  conception  of  tlie  civil  magistrate  as 
a   minister   of    tlie    retribution    ordained    bv    tliat 
justice  as    'the  other  half  of  crime,'    these  things 
have  well  nigh  died  out  from   tlie  popidar  mind, 
as,  in  place  of  the  old  spiritual  principles  of  ethics, 
Materialism  refers  us  to  natural  history."  * 

If  law,  with  penal  sanctions,  be  the  bond  of  civil 
society,  the  family  is  certainly  its  foundation.  But 
the  family  depends  u^Don  marriage.  Now  marria<^>'e, 
as  it  exists  in  Europe,  is  mainly  the  creation  of 
Transcendentalism  embodied  in  Christianity.  Words- 

*  I  quote  this  i)assage,  slightly  altering  it,  from  my  work,  A 
Century  of  U evolution,  i^iul  Ed.  p.  04. 


1. 


worth  gave  utterance  to  no  mere  poetical  fancy, 
but  to  the  exact  truth,  when  he  wrote  of  ^'  pure 
reliuion  breathino-  household  laws."  AVhat  is  be- 
coming  of  marriage,  and  of  that  virtue  of  chastity 
of  which  it  is  the  guardian,  as  society  is  ever  more 
and  more  governed  by  purely  physical  canons?  In 
another  work  I  have  pointed  out  what,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  w^as  the  effect  upon  matrimony  of  the 
Materialism  dominant  in  France  during  the  second 
half  of  tlie  last  century.*  I  may  here  note  how 
the  legislators  of  the  first  French  Republic  dealt 
Avith  it.  The  National  Convention  reduced  it  to  a 
civil  contract  terminable,  under  circumstances,  by 
the  decree  of  a  secular  tribunal.  As  a  fitting 
pendant  to  this  enactment,  the  law  of  the  12tli  of 
Bramaire,  year  II.  of  the  Republic,  placed  natural 
children  upon  a  footing  of  almost  complete  equality 
with  children  born  in  wedlock.  Cambaceres,  who 
acted  as  the  rapporteur  of  the  measure,  would,  in- 
deed, have  put  them  upon  a  completely  equal  foot- 
ino^.  ^^  The  existinn^  differences,"  he  urged,  ^^  are 
the  result  of  pride  and  superstition,  they  are  igno- 
minious and  contrary  to  justice."  The  Materialists 
who  now  sit  in  the  seat  of  those  sages  are  bent  upon 
continuing  and  completing  their  work.  The  recent 
law  on  divorce  is  but  a  beginning,  quite  insufficient 
to  satisfy  the  aspirations  of  the  bolder  spirits,  Avho 
pant  for  the  entire  abolition  of  marriage,  upon  the 
irround  that  it  is  '*'  the  tomb  of  love,  and  the  chief 

*   Chapters  in  European  History,  vol.  ii.  pp.  153-159. 


30 


THE  CiaSlS  OF  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


cause  of  ^jtupidity  {ahetissement)  and  ugliness  {en- 
luidisseinoii)  in  the  hiunan  race."  I  suppose  it 
must  be  conceded  that  stupidity  and  ugliness  are 
the  rule,  rather  than  the  exception,  in  the  human 
race.  But  I  have  never  been  able  to  follow  the 
reasoning  which  professes  to  find  the  source  of 
these  evils  in  matrimony,  and  their  remedy  in  what 
is  called  ^^free  love."  Certain  it  is,  however,  that 
every  scliool  of  Materialism  tends  to  the  substitu- 
tion of  e2)hemeral  connections,  of  what  Mr.  John 
Morley  terms,  after  Ifousseau,  ^'marriage  according 
to  the  truth  of  nature,"  *— it  is  usually  known  as 
concubinage — for  permanent  and  indissoluble  wed- 
lock, a  ''  servitude"  for  which  no  sanction  is  found 
in  physical  science.  '•  The  moral  and  legal  rule  of 
marriage  will  be  changed,"  M.  Ivenan  prophesied, 
not  long  ago,  to  the  well-pleased  students  gathered 
around  him  at  the  Graad-Vefour  ]  -'the  old  Koman 
and  Christian  law  will  one  dav  seem  too  exclusive, 
too  narrow."  And  evidently  M.  Ifenan  thinks  that 
day  of  redemption  drawing  nigh.  Certain  it  is 
that  every  school  of  Materialism,  by  banishing  the 
sjnritual  element  from  love,  reduces  it  to  a  mere 
physical  function,  and  makes  of  chastity  a  monkish 
superstition.  ^^  La  morale,"  a  keen-witted  French- 
man observed  to  me  the  other  day,  ^^  est  regardce 
l)ar  la  Kevolution  comnie  une  clericale."  And  the 
abounding  obscenity  of  literature  and  art  in  France 


* 


Sec  his  account  of  Rousseau's  mock  espousals  iu  vol.  i.  clia}).  iv. 
of  his  work  on  that  philosopher. 


i 


i-J 


'*  UGLY  SYMFTOMS 


<    5> 


31 


is  viewed  with  satisfaction  by  her  present  rulers,  as 
the  most  effective  weapon  wherewith  to  combat  this 
dreaded  foe  of  the  Third  Republic.  We  in  England 
have  not  as  yet  got  so  far  as  '^  advanced  thinkers  " 
across  the  Channel.  But  unquestionably  we  are  on 
the  road.  The  establishment  of  the  Divorce  Court 
has  been  a  heavy  blow  to  the  old  spiritual  concep- 
tions of  w^edlock,  hitherto  unquestioningly  received 
among  us.  And  who  can  estimate  the  demoralising 
effect  of  the  flood  of  filth,  vomited  throughout  the 
country,  from  that  '^  common  sewer  of  the  realm"? 
The  warnings  of  the  saintly  Keble  ''  against  pro- 
fane dealing  with  holy  matrimony  "  have  received 
only  too  ample  justification.  On  every  side  we 
may  discern  the  tokens  how  the  old  reverence  for 
Avonian,  and  for  that  virtue  of  chastity  which  is  the 
very  citadel  of  her  moral  being,  is  being  sapped 
among  us,  as  Materialism  advances.  The  "Christian 
idea  of  purity,"  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  observes,  ''has 
still  a  hold  upon  our  society,  imperfectly  enough. 
Can  we  ask  a  more  anxious  question  than  whether 
this  hold  will  continue  V  No  one  can  help  seeing, 
I  think,  numy  ugly  symptoms.  The  language  of 
revolt  is  hardly  muttered:  the  ideas  of  purity,  which 
we  have  inherited  and  thought  sacred,  are  boldly 
n\ade  the  note  and  reproach  of  '  the  Christians.'  "  '^ 
''  Ugly  symptoms,"  indeed,  abound  on  every  side. 
Think  —  but   briefly  —  of    one   of   them  :     of    the 

*  Sermons  })reachcd  before  the  University  of  Oxford,  by  11.  AV. 
Church,  p.  131. 


TUE  ( IIISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


apotheosis  of  prostitution,  Avhicli  is  a  distinctive 
note  of  our  epoch.  And  here  let  me  guard  myself 
against  misconception.  I  know  well  that  the  poor 
in  virtue,  as  the  poor  in  worldly  wealth,  we 
have  always  with  us.  I  know  that  in  our  ])resent 
highly  complex  and  artificial  civilisation,  the  rude 
j)roceedings,  whereby  the  men  of  simpler  ages 
sought  to  enforce  chastity,  would  be  out  of  date. 
1  think  it  ])robable  that  in  any  age  they  did  more 
harm  than  good.  True,  at  all  events  in  the  exist- 
ing condition  of  society,  is  St.  Augustine's  warning, 
^^  Aufer  meretrices  de  rebus  humanis,  turbaveris 
omnia  libidinibus.''*  And^  this  being  so,  I  believe 
tlie  true  function  of  the  State  is  to  control  and 
regulate  what  it  nmst  regard  as  a  necessary  evil, 
and  to  minimise,  as  far  as  may  be,  the  resultant 
miscliiefs,  moral  and  physical.  These  miserable 
women  are  tlie  guardians  of  our  domestic  purity. 
The  '^  macte  virtute  esto  "  of  Cato  was  prompted 
by  a  true  knowledge  of  human  nature.  But  liitherto, 
the  infamy  of  the  courtesan's  trade  has,  at  least, 
been  generally  recognised.  It  has  been  reserved 
for  the  Materialism  of  the  nineteenth  centurv  to 
nuike  of  this  unclean  creature  an  object  of  admira- 
tion, of  envy,  nay,  of  respect ;  the  heroine  of 
dranui,  the  type  of  comedy,  the  theme  of  ronumce, 
tlie  arbitress  of  fashion,  the  model  curiously  and 
and  attentively  studied  by  great  ladies  with 
daughters  to  marry,  by  debutantes  with  husbands 

*  Dc  Online^  1.  ii.  c.  4. 


I.] 


TEE  NEW  TYPE  OF  WOMANHOOD. 


33 


fi 


}  1 

i- 


to  find.  ^'Hoc  fonte  derivata  clades."  No  one 
can  go  much  into  ^'society"  without  learning  how 
widely  spread  the  corruption  is.  A  taint  of  lubri- 
city is  in  the  air.  The  language  of  the  lupanar 
is  heard  from  virginal  lips.  Things  which  it  is  a 
shame  even  to  speak  of,  are  calmly  discussed  by 
beauty  just  out  of  the  nursery.  '^  Si  un  hommo 
epoiise  uno  jeune  femme,  elevee  a  la  moderne,  il 
risque  fort  d'epouser  une  petite  courtisane/'  de- 
bauched in  mind,  if  physically  intact.  It  is  an 
observation  of  Bernard  de  Vaudricourt  in  La 
31orte,  and  is  true  of  other  countries  than  France. 
If  any  one  wishes  to  see  what  woman  becomes, 
Avhen  brought  np  without  religious  or  metaphysical 
dogmas,  in  the  school  of  physical  facts,  accepted 
as  the  only  facts,  let  him  survey  SabineTallevaut, 
as  she  is  depicted  for  us  in  the  pages  of  that  ad- 
mirably written  book.  Nowhere  has  M.  Feuillet 
displayed  more  signally  his  sagacity  and  acuteness 
in  observing  social  phenomena,  or  his  singular 
psychological  skill.  I  know  not  whether  to  admire 
more  his  refinement  or  his  audacity,  his  mastery 
of  the  emotions  or  his  descriptive  power.  Certain 
it  is  that  the  morality  of  the  world,  in  the  long 
run,  is  determined  by  women.  Certain  it  is  that 
the  philosopher  was  well  w^arranted  when  he  wrote 
^^  ce  qu'on  appelle  Thomme  moral,  est  forme  sur 
les  o-enoux  dc  sa  mere."  Certain  it  is  that  for 
woman  the  idea  of  duty  is,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
inseparably  bound  up  with  the  spiritual  conceptions 


.  I 


34 


THE  CBISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


derived  by  her  from  religion.  And  as  certain  is  it 
that  if  she  once  lose  those  conceptions,  nothing  but 
lack  of  personal  attractions,  or  absence  of  op- 
2)ortunityj  saves  her  from  utter  ethical  degradation. 
Let  us  never  forget  that  tlio  difference  between 
man  and  Avoman  is  not  merely  of  physical  confor- 
mation. It  is  psychical.  '^  Woman  is  not  un- 
developed man,  but  diverse."  She  is  governed 
far  more  by  instinct,  by  impulse,  by  affections, 
than  by  reason,  by  purpose,  by  principles.  For 
]ier,  Materialism  means  more  utter  ruin  than  for 
man,  for  it  extinguishes  tlie  ideal  which  is  her  one 
light  of  life.  As  it  destroys  tlie  sense  of  duty  in 
man,  so  is  it  fatal  to  pure  love  in  Avoman.  Bring 
up  woman  in  the  Positivist  school,  and  you  make  of 
her  a  monster:  the  very  type  of  ruthless  cynicism, 
of  all-engrossing  selfishness,  of  unbridled  passion. 


There  are  eminent  persons,  I  am  well  aware,  to 
whom  these  conclusions  will  be  extremely  distaste- 
ful. Writers,  whoso  names  alone  suffice  to  establisli 
a  claim  upon  our  respectful  attention,  discourse  to 
us  of  what  they  call  ^'independent  morality  :  "  by 
Avliich  tliey  mean  morality  deprived  of  its  meta- 
physical basis.  Professor  Huxley,  as  I  remember, 
somewhere  protests,  Avith  characteristic  vehemence, 
''  I  do  not  for  one  moment  admit  tliat  morality  is 
not  strong  enough  to  hold  its  own."  After  all, 
however,  the  vital  question  is  not  what  this  accom- 


^] 


THE  MORAL  SAF  OF  THE  OLD  BELIEF. 


So 


plished  physicist  will  admit,  but  what,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  does  hapj^en,  and,  from  tlie  nature  of  the 
case,  must  happen.  No  doubt  Professor  Huxley, 
emancipated  from  belief  in  angel  or  spirit,  still 
guides  himself  by  the  same  ethical  rules  as  before. 
I  do  not  myself  know  anything  of  the  early  liistory 
of  this  illustrious  man.  But  I  suppose  that,  like  the 
rest  of  us,  he  was  brought  up  upon  the  Catechism. 
At  all  events,  I  am  quite  sure  that  he  is  the  product 
of  many  generations  of  Christian  progenitors. 
What  M.  lienan  happily  calls  the  moral  sap  of  the 
old  belief — ''  la  seve  morale  de  la  vieille  croyance" 
— still  courses  through  his  spiritual  being.  His 
Materialism  takes  credit  for  virtues  sj^ringing  from 
quite  another  source:  '^  Miraturque  novas  frondes 
et  non  sua  poma."  Fie  knows,  far  better  than  I  do, 
the  influence  of  heredity  and  of  environment  upon 
character.  He  is  well  aware  how  deeply  rooted  in 
the  past  are  those  ethical  principles  whereby  human 
life  is  still  largely  governed,  even  among  Material- 
ists. The  question  is,  can  you  uproot  those  prin- 
ciples, and  expect  them  to  flourish  upon  a  quite 
different  soil  ?  Morality,  in  Professor  Huxley,  I 
can  Avell  believe,  is  strong  enough  to  hold  its  own. 
But  Avill  it  be  strong  enough  in  Professor  Huxley's 
great-grandchildren?  ''It  takes  several  genera- 
tions for  Christian  morality  to  get  into  the  blood," 
the  missionaries  in  Samoa  told  Baron  von  Iliiljiier. 
It  will  doubtless  take  several  generations  for 
Christian  morality  to  get  out  of  the  blood.     And 

D  2 


36 


TUE  CRISIS  OF  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


then  ?      Not,  indeed,  tliat   I  am  now  pleading  for 
Christianity.      Still   less   am    I    ])lcading    for  any- 
special  form  of  it.     There    is    little    in    Christian 
morality  that  is  exclusively  Christian.*     And  I  am 
not  prepared  to    assert   that   many    of    the    most 
precious  of  the  ethical  elements  of  our  civilisation 
might  not  survive  a  general  decay  of  specifically 
Christian  doctrines.     I  am  at  present  merely  point- 
ing to  tlic  fact,  that   as  the  metaphysical  dogmas, 
enumerated   in    a    previous   page,  have    lost   their 
hold  upon  the  popular  mind,    the   ethical    concep- 
tions for  whicli  they  served  as  a  basis  have  fallen 
into  discredit.     But    Materialism  proposes  to  rear 
for  US  a  new    Morality  upon    another  foundation. 
Let  us  go  on  to  examine  that  proposal. 

*  On  tliis  subject  sec  pp.  115,  211,  214;-5. 


CHAPTER  II. 


MATERIALISTIC    ETHICS. 


Pr.OFESSOE  HrxLEY,  in  one  of  the  most  interesting 
of  liis  JjCfi/  Sermons,  has  proclaimed  to  all  mankind : 
"  I  say  that  natural  knowledge,  seeking  to  satisfy 
natural  wants,  has  found  tlie  ideas  which  can  alone 
still  spiritual  cravings.  I  say  that  natural  know- 
ledge, in  desiring  to  ascertain  the  laws  of  comfort, 
has  been  driven  to  discover  those  of  conduct,  and 
to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  new  morality."  *  ^^  A 
new  morality  "  based  ultimately  on  "  the  laws  of 
comfort ! ''  Glad  tidings  of  great  joy,  indeed,  to 
a  benighted  nineteenth  century.  Similarly,  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer  assures  us  that  ^Hhe  establishment 
of  the  rules  of  right  conduct  upon  a  scientific  basis 
is  a  pressing  need."  t  And,  to  the  like  effect,  a 
popular  professor  in  the  Paris  School  of  Medicine 
recently  prophesied:  '*  By-and-by,  Avhen  the  rest 
of  the  world  has  risen  to  the  intellectual  level  of 
France,  and  true  views  of  the  nature  of  existence 
are  held  by  the  bulk  of  mankind,  now  under  clerical 

'^  P.  14.  t  Data  of  Ethics,  Pref.  iv. 


38 


MATEBIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


direction,  tlie  present  crude  and  vulgar  notions 
regarding  morality,  religion,  divine  providence, 
deity,  the  soul,  and  so  forth,  will  be  swept  entirely 
away,  and  the  dicta  of  science  will  remain  the  sole 

guidesof  sane  and  educated  men Churchmen 

and  moral  philosophers  represent  the  old  and  dying- 
world,  and  we,  the  men  of  science,  represent  the 
new.''  '^  Let  us  proceed  to  inquire  what  is  the 
substitute  for  'Hhe  present  crude  and  vulgar  notions 
regarding  morality "  proposed  to  the  world  by 
''  men  of  science,"  as  physicists  modestly  call 
themselves,  in  disdainful  ignorance  of  all  sciences 
except  their  own. 


Of  course  there  is  diversity  of  operation  in 
these  manufacturers  of  new  ethics.  I3ut  in  all 
w^orketh  one  and  the  self-same  S2)irit.  They  all 
aim  at  presenting  the  world  with  what  they  term 
'^  an  independent  morality,"  by  which  they  mean 
a  morality  deduced  merely  from  jAysical  law, 
grounded  solely  on  Avhat  they  call  ''experience," 
and  on  analysis  of  and  deductions  from  experience ; 
holding  onl}'  of  the  iDositive  sciences  and  rejecting 
all  pure  reason,  all  philosojohy  in  the  true  sense  of 
the  word.  They  all  insist  that  there  is  no  essential 
difference  between  the  moral  and  the  physical 
order ;  that  the  world  of  ideas  is  but  a  development 

*  Quoted  by  Professor  Davis  in  his  article,  "Tlic  Moral  Aspects 
of  Vivisection,"  in  the  North  American  Review  of  Marcli,  1885. 


1..] 


A  rUBELY  EHYSIGAL  METHOD. 


39 


^ 


of  the  world  of  phenomena.     They  all  agree  in  the 
negation  of  first  and  of  final  causes,   of    the  soul 
and  of  free-will.     Instead  of  finality,  they  tell  us, 
necessit)^  reigns  ;  mechanical  perhaps,  or  it  may  be 
dynamical,  but  issuing  practically  in  the  elimination 
of  moral  liberty  as  a  useless  spring  in  the  machinery 
of  matter.     I  venture  to  say  that  in  the  long  run 
there  are  only  two  schools  of  ethics — the  hedonistic 
and  the  transcendental.     There  are  only  two  sides 
from  which  we  can  approach  a  question  of  right 
and  wrong— the  physical  and  the  spiritual;  there 
are  only  two  possible   foundations    of   morality — 
conscience  and  concupiscence  ;  *    the  laws  of  uni- 
versal reason,  and  what  Professor  Huxley  calls  "•iho 
laws   of   comfort."      The    ''men   of   science"    are 
agreed  in  anathematising  the  transcendental.  Their 
method  is  purely  physical.     They  conceive  of  man 
merel}-   as   '' cin   geniessendes  Thier,"    an  animal 
whose  motive  principle  is  wliat  they  call  "  ]iai)pi- 
ness ;  "  for  whom,  as  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  roundly 
asserts,    '^pain  and   pleasure  are  the  determining 
causes  of  action" — nay  more,   ''the  sole  and  the 
ultimate  causes."!    Such  are  the  foundations  of  the 
new  "•  independent  morality."    AVe  will  now  follow 
it  out  in  some  of  its  details. 

And  first  let  us  learn  of    a  teacher  concernino: 

*  I  use  the  word  in  its  i^rnpor  philosophical  sense  :  ''  a  certain 
po^yer  and  motion  of  the  mind,  whereby  men  are  driven  to  desire 
pleasant  things  which  tlicy  do  not  possess." 

t  Science  of  Ethics,  p.  50. 


40 


MATEBIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


whom  a  well-informed  writer  recently  testified  that 
''  in  this  country  and  America  he  is  the  philosopher," 
and   whose   works,  if    less   implicitly   icceived   as 
oracles  in  France  and  Germany,  liave  done  much 
to   shape  and  colour  current  speculation  in  those 
countries.     I  need  liardly  say  tliat  I  speak  of  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer.     I  sliall  devote  my  next  chapter 
to  examining,  in  some  detail,  the  moral  philosophy 
of  this  popular  writer.    Here,  I  will  merely  observe 
that  the  doctrine  unfolded  by  liim,  at  such  great 
length,  appears  to  me  to  amount,  in  the  last  resort, 
to  this:  All  the  actions  of  society  are  determined  by 
the  actions  of  the  individual ;  all  the  actions  of  tlie 
individual  are  regulated  by  the  laws  of  life  ;  and 
all  the  laws  of  life  are  purely  pliysical.     Turn  we 
to  another  eminent  teacher,  hardly  less  iniluential. 
Consider  the  following  account  of  human  nature 
which  Professor  Huxley  sets  before  us  in  liis  Lafj 
Sermons^  enforcing  it  by  an  epigram  of  Goethe :  ^'  All 
the  multifarious  and  complicated  activities  of  men" 
— all,  remember,  without  exception — ^'  are  compre- 
hensible under  three  categories.     Either  they  are 
immediately  directed  towards  the  maintenance  and 
development  of  the  body,  or  they  effect  transitory 
changes  in  the   relative  positions  of   parts  of  the 
body,  or  they  tend  towards  the  continuance  of  the 
species.     Even  those  manifestations  of  intellect,  of 
feeling,  and  of  will,  which   we  rightly  name  the 
higher  faculties,  are  not  excluded  from  this  classi- 
fication, inasmuch  as  to  every  one  but  the  subject 


\ 


\ 


' 


II.] 


''MUSCULAR  contraction:' 


41 


of  them  they  are  known  only  as  transitory  changes 
in   the   relative   positions   of   parts   of    the   body. 
Speech,  gesture,  and  every  other  form   of  human 
action  are,  in  the  long  run,  resolvable  into  muscular 
contraction."  *     I  do  not  overlook  the  words  ''  to 
every  one  but  the  subject  of  them."     And  most 
certainly  I  have  no  desire  to  force  upon  Mr.  Huxley's 
language  a  meaning  which  it  does  not  logically 
convey.     But  surely  he  will  agree  with  me,  that 
knowledge  which  is  confined  to  one's  inner  con- 
sciousness, and  can  never  become  the  property  of 
another,  cannot  have  much  effect  upon  society  at 
large.     It  may  be  dismissed  by  any  philosopher 
aiming  at  the  practical ;  and  that,  unquestionably, 
is  Professor  Huxley's  aim.      A  man,   dw^elling  in 
the  depths  of  his  own  consciousness,  he  tells  us, 
may  think,  if  he  pleases,  in  terms  of  spirit.     But 
the  moment  that  man  attempts  to  influence  another, 
he  must  put  away  everything  that  is  not  muscular 
contraction.       ^' Wciter   bringt   es   kein   Mensch," 
says  the  incomparable  genius  who,  in  three  lines, 
reduces  human  life  to  an  affair  of  feeding  oneself, 
be^^ettino;  children,  and  doing  one's  best  to  feed 
them.     I  know  it  may  be  answered,   "  Well,  but 
the  professor  leaves  us  the  unknown  and  unknow- 
able subject,  beyond  the  limits  of  consciousness,  as 
of  physical  science."     What  of  that  ?     Pray,  what 
has  morality  to  do  with  the  unknown  and  unknow- 
able ?       "  Nihil    volitum    quin   prsecognitum  "    is 

*  P.  135. 


<l 


42 


MATEBIALTSTIC  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


indeed  a  medieval  axiom^  and  so,   os  I  fear,  may 
be  ^^  suspect"  to  Professor  Huxley.     But  although 
medieval,  it  is  unquestionably  true.      On  morality, 
the  miknown   and    unknowable    can    have    only  a 
nominal  influence.     The  real  influence  is  left  to 
tlie  teacliing    which    sees   in   the    exercise    of   our 
hio-liest    faculties    only    "  muscular    contraction." 
Public  morality  must  be  founded  on  publicly  ac- 
knowledged  facts.     It  cannot  depend  upon  a  sub- 
jective consciousness  miable  to  manifest  itself  in- 
tellectually.    Professor  Huxley,  like  Mr.  Spencer, 
really  treats  ethics  as  a  branch  of  physics. 

And  this  is  in  truth  the   doctrine— whether  ex- 
plicitly avow^ed  or  not— of  the  whole  Positivist  and 
experimental   school.       Further,    right,    they   Avill 
have  it,   is  not  absolute  but  relative,   a  matter  of 
experience  and  calculation  ;    it  is  nothing  but  the 
accord  of   the   individual  instinct  with  the  social 
instinct;  the  momentary  harmony  of  the  need  mani- 
fested in  me,  and  of  the  exigences  of  the  species  to 
which   I   belong.     In   like   manner   WTong   is   the 
absence  of  such  accord,  the  want  of  such  harmony; 
^^  a  natural  phenomenon  like  any  other,  but  a  phc- 
nomenon  that  at  a  given  moment  is  found  to  be  in 
opposition  to  the  eventual  good  of  the  race."     And 
this  agrees  with  Bentham's  doctrine  that  what  we 
call  a  crime  is  really  a  miscalculation,  an   error  in 
arithmetic.    General  utility,  the  good  of  the  species 
is,  then,  the  only  scientific  and  experimental  cri- 
terion of  human  action,  the  sole  rule  of  right  and 


i 


II.] 


V HOMME. MA  CHINE. 


43 


WTong;  and  morality  consists  in  the  apprehension 
of  that  principle,  and  in  conformity  with  it,  And 
so  Mr.  John  Morley,  wdiom  many  take  for  a  philo- 
sopher, in  his  book  on  Comjjromise,  dogmatically 
affirms,  ^^  Moral  principles,  wdien  they  are  true,  are,  at 
bottom,  only  registered  generalisations  from  experi- 
ence. Hmnan  society,  in  the  view  of  this  authority,  is 
not  an  organism  but  a  machine— just  as  the  individual 
men  of  whom  it  is  composed  are  machines;^  a  kind 
of  company,  as  some  one  has  happily  expressed  it, 
wdiich  insures  against  risks  by  aj^plying  the  prin- 
ciples of  solidarity  and  reciprocity,  the  taxes  being 
the  premium. 

Society  then,  and  its  supposed  interests,  being  the 
one  rule  of  right  and  wrong,  it  is  idle  to  talk  of  any 
natural  rights  of  man.  We  are  taught,  in  terms, 
that  '^  the  only  reason  for  recognising  anij  supposed 
right  or  claim  inherent  in  any  man  or  body  of  men, 
other  than  what  is  expressly  conferred  by  positive 
law,  ever  has  been  and  still  is,  general  utility,"  and 
we  are  referred  to  ''  Bentham,  Austin,  and  Mill  "  as 
having  ^^conclusively  settled  that."  We  are  assured 
that  ^^  a  natural  ri^ht  is  a  mere  fi foment  of  the  ima- 
gination,"  or,  w^hat  is  apparently  regarded  as  more 
heinous  still,  '^a  metaphysical  entity."  Do  w^e  suggest 
that  slavery,  for  example,  is,  as  the  Institutes  teach, 
contra  naturani,  a  violation  of  a  man's  natural  right 

*  "  The  good  man  is  a  machine  whose  springs  are  adapted  so  to 
fulfil  their  functions  as  to  produce  beneficent  results."  Morley's 
Diderot^  vol.  ii.  p.  182. 


44 


MATERIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


to  freedom  ?  No,  we  are  told ;  tlie  true  objection  to 
slavery  is  that  it  is  opposed  to  the  good  of  the  com- 
munity.   Lord  Sherbrooke,  some  years  ago,  affirmed 
that  the  principle  of  abstract  right  had  never  been 
admitted  in  England ;    a  statement  which  implies, 
at  the  least,  deficiency  of  information  or  shortness 
of  memory.     ^'  If  it  is  the  sound  English  doctrine," 
observed  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold,  by  way  of  comment 
on  this  text,  "  that  all  rights  are  created   by  law, 
and    are    based  on  expediency,   and  are  alterable 
as  the  public  advantage  may  require,  certainly  that 
orthodox  doctrine  is  mine."     All  rights  created  by 
law!     Well,  well,  it  was  always  a  pity  when  Mr. 
Matthew  Arnold  laid  aside  his  rarland  and  sinoiiK'- 
robes,  and  dallied  with  philosophy.     But  such  an 
accomplished  scholar  might  have  remembered  that 
the  doctrine  of  which  he  thus  made  solenm  profes- 
sion, is  precisely  the  doctrine  of  the  ancient  sophists, 
so  admirably  refuted  by  Plato.     Besides,  he  surely 
possessed  some  acquaintance  with  the  language  and 
literature  of  Germany.     And  the  knowledge  that 
the  idea  of  Nat urr edit  is  the  very  foundation  of 
scientific  jurisprudence  in  that  country,  might  have 
served  to  make  him  pause.     However,  there  can  be 
no  question  that  the  apostle  of  culture  is  here  the 
mouthpiece    of    the    vulgar    belief,    that   material 
power,   the  force    of   numbers,    furnishes   the   last 
reason  of  things,  and  the  sole  organ  of  justice;    a 
belief    which    finds    practical    expression    in    the 
political  dogma  that  any  ^'  damned  error  ''  becomes 


".] 


M.  LITTBE'S  DISCOVERY. 


45 


right,  if  a  numerical  majority  of  the  male  adult 
inhabitants  in  any  country  can  be  induced,  by 
rhetoric  and  rigmarole,  to  bless  it  and  approve  it 
with  their  votes. 

And  as,  in  the  new  morality,  right  springs  from 
the  physical  fact  of  living  together,  so  duty  springs 
from  the  physical  necessity  of  living  together.  The 
old  conception  of  conscience  as  ''^  a  participation 
of  the  Eternal  Law  in  the  rational  creature,''  the 
inward  witness  of  the  Supreme  Judge,  ^^a  prophet 
in  its  informations,  a  monarch  in  its  peremptoriness, 
a  priest  in  its  blessings  and  anathemas,"  is  put  aside 
as  outworn  rhetoric.  The  moral  sense,  we  are 
assured,  is  not  primitive,  not  innate,  but  a  mere 
empirical  fact,  transformed  and  established  by 
heredity ;  a  ''  phenomenon "  (so  they  call  it) 
variable  and  varying  with  the  exigencies  of  the 
race.  The  primary  fount  of  morality,  M.  Littre 
has  discovered — I  believe  the  glory  of  the  discovery 
belongs  to  him  — is  in  the  contest  between  egoism, 
the  starting-point  of  which  is  nutrition,  and  altruism, 
the  starting-point  of  which  is  sexuality.  Li  these 
organic  needs  he  finds  the  origin  of  justice.  It  is 
a  merely  physiological  fact,*  the  highest  degree  of 
the  social  instinct,  the  expression  of  a  multitude  of 
sensations,  images,  ideas,  springing  successively 
from  various  circumstances,  in  many  generations, 
and  welded  together,  so  to  speak,  in  the  brain,  by 

*  Elsewhere  he  allows  justice   to  Le  '' an  irreducible  psychical 
i'act."     I  suppose  '*  irreducible  "  means  ultimate. 


46 


MATERIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


the  force  of  habit,  the  invention  and  use  of  lan- 
guage, and  tlie  action  of  time.     Thus  there  arises  a 
tradition,  which  becomes  the  public  opinion  of  the 
community,  giving  birth  to  "  those  uniformities  of 
approbation   and   disapprobation  "—the    phrase,    I 
think,  is  is  Dr.  Bain's— which  encourage  and,  so  to 
speak,  consecrate  such  and  such  conduct  as  tending 
to  the  general  good ;    or,  in   other  words,  as  likely 
to  result  in  the  largest  number  of  pleasant  sensa- 
tions for  the  largest  number  of  people.     And  so  the 
test  of  the  moral  value  of  an  action  is  not  the  inten- 
tion of  the  doer,  but  the  result  of  the  deed  :    the 
true  criterion  of  its  ethical  value  is  its  pleasurable 
tendency :  show  that  wliicli  is  commonly  accounted 
virtue  is  not  conducive  to  human  gratification,  and 
It  ceases  to  be  virtuous.     In  the  new  ethics   the 
maxim  so  often    and   so   ignorantly   cited   to   the 
reproach  of   the   Society  of  Jesus,  that  ''  the  end 
justifies  the  means,"*  finds  place  in  all  its  naked- 
It  may  not  be  amiss  to  point  out  tliat  tliis   maxim,  in   the 
sense  popularly  put  upon  it,  lias  never  been  liekl  by  any  school  of 
casuists,  Jesuit  or  other.       The  commonplaces  of  moral  theoloL;y, 
Licitns  est  funs,  etiam  Ucita  sunt  mcflia  and  Cui  Ucitus  est  finis,  licita 
sunt  media,  merely  assert  the  general  philosophical  principle,  that 
if  the  end,  the  complete  opus,  is   a  good  one,  due   means  may  be 
taken  for  its  attaimnent  :  not  all,  nor  any  means,  but  first  innocent 
means,  and  secondly  means  which  are  not,  at  all  events,  essentially 
evil,  and  whi.-h  the  end,  and  the  end  alone,  can  justify.     Examples 
of  this  second  class  are  afforded  by  dangerous  surgical  operations, 
such  as  tracheotomy,  lithotomy,  amputation.     The  end  of  saving 
life  justifies  these  means.     But  neither  that  end,  nor  any  other^ 
would  justify  adultery  or  blasphemy. 


11.] 


UNIVEBSAL  NECESSITY, 


47 


ness,  as  a  very  cardinal  doctrine.  It  gives  rise  in 
IDractice  to  some  curious  applications,  as  when  Mr. 
Cotter  Morison,  in  his  last  Avork,  exalts  "  the 
barren  prostitute"  at  the  expense  of  '^  the  j^rolific 
spouse." 

But,  in  truth,  intention  must  be  beside  the  question 
in  the  new  morality,  for,  as  I  pointed  out  in  tlie 
last  chapter,   its  professors,  one  and  all,  repudiate 
free  Avill,  as  in  manifest  contradiction  with  the  law 
of  mechanical  causality.     Tlu'ough  their  identifica- 
tion of  moral  necessity  with  physical  necessity,  they 
are  inevitably  led  to  Determinism.     "  The  doctrine 
that  the  will  is  free"  is  "virtually  unmeaning-,"  *  Mr. 
John  Morley  tells  us.    And  with  the  quiet  contempt 
of   one  wlio  is  most  ignorant   of   what  he's   most 
assured,  he  opposes  to  tliose  fatuous  persons  wlio 
hold   it,    '^  sensible   people  who  accept"   what  he 
calls    '^the   scientific    account   of    human   action." 
That  account  is  that  every  act  is  really  the  out- 
come of  universal  necessity;  tliat  free  will  is  merely 
a  name  by  which  we  veil  our  ignorance  of  causes, 
an  illusion  properly  explained  by  Mr.  Spencer,  as 
tlie  result  of  a  vast  collection  of  detailed   associa- 
tions whereof  the  history  has  been  lost.     Do  we 
hint  a  doubt  that  this   doctrine  degrades  man  by 
reducing  him   to  a  machine?     Mr.   Morley  loftily 
admonishes  us  that  we  are  *'  using  a  kind  of  lan- 
guage that  Avas  invented  in  ignorance  of  what  con- 
stitutes the  true  dignity  of  man."    "  What  is  nature 

*  Miscellanies,  vol.  i.  p.  146. 


48 


MATEEIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[cu. 


itself,"  lie  inquires,  ''but  a  vast  machine,  in  which  our 
human  species  is  no  more  than  one  weak  spring?" 


Now  wliat  are  \vc  to  say  of  tliis  new  morality  ? 
I  take  leave  to  say  that  it  is  not  moral  at  all. 
Face  Professor  Huxley,  I  venture  to  assert  that  you 
can  derive  no  ethical  principle  whatever  from  ^'the 
laws  of  comfort ;  *'  that  from  needs,  j.ersonal  or  racial, 
from  the  interests,  whether  of  the  individual  or  of  the 
community,  you  cannot  extract  an  atom  of  morality. 
Mr.  Lecky  has  justly  remarked  that  the  only  charge 
utilitarians  can  bring  against  vice  is  that  of  impru- 
dence. But,  even  supposing  that  the  charge  couldbe 
sustained,  prudence  is  one  thing,  duty  is  quite  an- 
other. Prudence  rests  upon  the  calculations  of  self- 
love.  Dutv  means  abnemtion  of  self  and  obedience 
to  the  unconditioned  conunand  of  Pight.  The  first 
note  of  the  moral  law,  as  of  all  law,J^^_obli^£ati^^ 
To  sacrifice  my  private  gratification  to  the  general 
welfare,  may  be  an  admirable  rule  if  it  comes  to 
me  in  the  name  of  Piglit.  Not  so  if  it  appeals  to 
me  in  the  name  of  Utility.  I  ask  what  is  useful  for 
myself,  for  my  own  delectation.  Why  should  I  not, 
if  man  is  merely  a  pleasurable  aninud  ?  Do  not 
mistake  me.  I  grant  that  ])lcasure  is  a  mighty 
spring  of  individual  life.  I  admit  that  it  is  a  good 
at  which  the  hunuin  will  may  legitimately  aim. 
But  I  deny  that  it  is  the  source  of  ethics.  The 
only  morality  you  can  derive  from  it  is  the  morality 
of   money,  for  which  pleasures,  physical   and.   in- 


f.i 


II.] 


DUTY  AND  DELECTATION. 


49 


tellectual,  of  all  kinds,  may  be  purchased :  dwina 
humanaqiie  piilchris  dwitiis  parent,  '^  Pleasure 
and  pain  govern  the  world,"  Bentham  tells  us. 
^*  It  is  for  these  two  sovereign  masters  alone," 
he  insists,  ^^  to  point  out  what  we  ought  to  do,  as 
well  as  to  determine  what  we  shall  do."*  Well, 
but  surely,  the  pleasure  and  pain  which  come 
home  to  the  individual,  are  his  individual  pleasure 
and  pain.  The  idea  of  Duty  differs  by  the  whole 
diameter  of  existence  from  the  idea  of  Delectation. 
But  they  tell  us  ^'  Our  sole  experimental  and 
scientific  criterion  of  human  action— the  irreatest 
happiness  of  the  greatest  number — does  carry  with 
it  an  obligation.  The  precept  really  is :  Work  for 
the  general  advantage,  for  you  will  find  your 
own     advanta<re     in    d 


omg    so."t       To    this     I 


'^'  Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Morals  and  Legislation,  c.  1. 

•f  Such  is  the  Utilitarian  doctrine  as  expounded  by  Mr.  John 
Stuart  Mill,  whom,  I  suppose,  we  must  regard  as  its  cliief  apostle 
in  our  time.  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  tells  ns  that  the  true  moral 
motive  is  constituted  by  representations  of  consequences  naturally 
produced  by  the  acts  :  which  representations  are  partly  due  to' 
experience  of  the  results  of  like  acts  in  the  life  of  the  individual, 
and  partly  to  the  inherited  effect  of  such  experiences  in  progenitors. 
Thus  the  moral  deterrent  from  adultery  is  to  be  found  in  the 
"ideas  of  unhappiness  entailed  on  the  aggrieved  wife  or  husband, 
the  damaged  lives  of  children,  and  the  different  mischiefs  which 
go  along  with  disregard  of  the  marringe  tie."  Data  of  Ethics,  §  45. 
But  Mr.  Spencer  quite  fails  to  demonstrate  why  the  possibility  that 
disagreeable  feeling  may  result  to  others  from  tiie  adulterous  act. 
should  lead  the  enamoured  pair  to  forego  the  extremely  agreeable 
feeling  which  it  will  certainly  bring  to  themselves.  As  I  shall  show, 
at  length,  in  the  next  chapter,  obligation  has  no  place  in  Mr. 
Spencer's  ethics ;  nor  on  his  principles  can  any  valid  reason  be 
given  why  the  individual  is  ever  bound  to  sacrifice  himself. 

£ 


50 


MATFEIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


I      I 


11.] 


LAW  FRY  SIC  AL  ANL  LAW  MOliAL. 


reply,  iirst,  Where  is  the  oblig-ation,  the  binding- 
tie?  In  phxce  of  it  you  present  me  with  nothing 
but  a  mere  motive.  And,  in  the  second  phice,  I 
observe,  that  the  proposition  on  which  that  motive 
is  based,  is  untenable.  It  is  by  no  means  univer- 
sally true  that  in  Avorkin^^  for  the  <j:eneral  advantaire 
I  shall  find  my  own.  On  the  contrary,  upon  many 
occasions,  tlie  general  advantage  points  one  way, 
and  m}'  private  advantage  another.  Nay,  is  it  too 
mucli  to  say  that  my  own  j)rivate  and  personal 
advantage  will  seldom  be  identical  witli  the  general 
advantage,  in  a  world  Avliere  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence and  tlie  survival  of  the  fittest  are  primary 
laws?  Let  us  look  at  the  old  precept,  '^  Thou 
shalt  not  commit  adultery,"  in  the  liglit  of  the  new 
morality.  I  exhibit  that  injunction  to  a  young  man 
burning  with  a  passion  for  a  married  woman.  He 
replies,  reasonably  enough,  "  Why  should  I  not 
commit  adultery  ?  "  '^  Because  it  is  for  tlie  general 
interest,  wdiich  is,  in  truth,  your  own  interest,  that 
you  should  not.  Don't  you  see,  some  day,  when 
you  marry,  if  you  ever  do  marry,  some  one  may 
commit  adultery  Avith  your  wife."  "  May  !  yes;  I 
will  run  that  risk.  Meanwhile  I  shall  enjoy  the 
supreme  pleasure  of  gratifying  the  strongest  desire 
which  I  have  ever  experienced."  The  answer  seems 
to  me  conclusive.  The  general  advantage  is  an  ab- 
straction which  concerns  only  the  abstraction  called 
humanity.  If  delectation,  pleasure,  happiness,  is  the 
criterion  of  action,  it  is  pretty  certain   to  mean  in 


51 


I 


i 


practice  our  own  individual  delectation,  pleasure, 
happiness.  If  agreeable  feeling  be  the  sanction  of 
ethics,  be  assured  an  immediate  and  certain  agree- 
able feeling  will  be  found  a  stronger  sanction  than 
a  future  and  contingent  agreeable  feeling. 

The  truth  is  that  in  mere  physics  there  is  no 
room  for  the  idea  of  right.     And  the  reason  is— 
that  the  mechanical  view  of  the  universe  offers  no 
spiritual  ground  of  existence,  that  out  of  it  no  true 
individual  can  ''  emerge."     No  one  that  I  know  of, 
witli  the  exception  of  Mr.  John  Morley,  praises  or 
blames  a  machine.    It  is  only  in  the  spiritual  sphere 
that  an  ethical  principle  can  be  found.     In  a  world 
of  mechanism,  right  is  a  meaningless  word,  for  it. 
has  neither  object  nor  subject.     View  human  life 
from  the  merely  physical  side,  and  force  takes  the 
place  of  right.     The  strongest  are  the  best.     They 
survive ;    they  prove  their  goodness  by  surviving. 
And  further  than  this   the   experimental   sciences 
cannot  bring  us. 

Physical  laws  give  us  mere  facts.  And  the 
authority  of  a  mere  fact,  I  say,  is  its  material  force. 
In  any  system  of  morals  based  on  physics,  force  is, 
in  the  long  run,  the  only  criterion  of  right  and 
wrong:  the  sole  reason  for  respecting  the  person 
or  property  of  another,  is  that  he  can  compel 
respect  for  it.  You  can  no  more  extract  morality 
from  physical  facts,  than  sunbeams  from  cucumbers 
—perhaps  less.  But  do  we  not  speak  of  respecting 
facts?     True.     But  the  word  respect  here  means 

E  2 


52 


3IATEEIALISTIG  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


only  recognition ;    it  implies  no  clement  of  moral 
judgment.     '^  Let  us  not  fight  against  facts,"  says 
Emipides,  '^  for  we  can  do  them  no  harm."     We 
recognise,    as    prudent    men,    tlieir    character    of 
necessity.     And  so  we  shape   them    to    our   ends. 
Far  otherwise  is  it  with  the  moral  law.    We  discern 
in  it  not  somethmg  that  we  can  make  serve  us,  but 
something  which  we  must  serve.     It  humiliates,  it 
commands  us ;  our  respect  for  it  is  religious.    Tlicrc 
is  a  whole  universe  between  mechanical  necessity 
and  ethical  necessity.     Physical  law  says,  ''Given 
such  and  such  antecedents,  and  such  and  such  con- 
sequences   follow."      Moral    law    says,    ''In   suchi 
circumstances,  sucli  action  omjlit  to  follow."     Phy- 
sical   law    declares,    "This    is    how    things   are." 
Moral  law  declares,  "  This  is  how  things  oiight  to 
be."     You  cannot  get  that  ought  from  an  universe 
of  observed  facts,  from   an  infinite   series  of  expe- 
riences.     "  The  word  '  ought ',"  Kant  observes,  in  a 
well-known  passage  of  his  Critique  of  Fure  lleason, 
'•  expresses  a  species  of  necessity  which  nature  does 
not  and  cannot  present  to  the  nnnd   of  man.     The 
understanding  knows  nothing  in  nature   but  that 
Avhich   is,  or  has  been,  or  will  be.     It    would   l)c 
absurd  to  say  that  anything  in  nature  ought  to  be 
other  than  it  is,  in  the  relations  hi  which  it  stands. 
Indeed,  the  word  '  ought,'  when  we  consider  merely 
the  course  of  nature,  has  neither  ai)plication  nor 

meaning'' Wliatever    number    of    motives 

nature  may  present  to   my  will,  whatever  sensuous 


II.] 


PUBLIC  OPINION. 


53 


impulses,  it  is  beyond  their  power  to  pronounce  the 
word  '  ought.'  "  No.  It  belongs  to  another  order. 
A  fact  is  isolated  and  contingent.  But  the  distinc- 
tive note  of  a  moral  principle  is  universal  necessity, 
the  inconceivability  of  the  contrary.  What  com- 
mands my  respect  for  another's  claim  is  not  the 
amount  of  brute  force  with  which  he  can  back  it, 
but  its  justice.  More,  a  primary  note  of  justice  is 
respect  for  weakness. 

"  Nay,  nay,"  it  maybe  answered,  "you  forget 
the  long  education  of  public  opinion.  Do  not  its 
'  uniformities  of  approbation  or  disapprobation ' 
furnish  a  sufficient  account  of  morality  ?  "  No  ; 
they  do  not.  It  is  not  that  I  undervalue  the  ethical 
traditions  which  lie  at  the  root  of  national  character. 
So  far  as  public  opinion  represents  those  traditions, 
it  is  a  force  of  indubitable  value  for  good.  And  so 
far  it  is  an  efTect,  not  a  cause.  It  is  in  no  sense  the 
creative  principle  of  morality.  Not  majorities  but 
minorities — usually  very  small  minorities — are  the 
"  helpers  and  friends  of  mankind  "  on  the  path 
of  ethical  progress.  How,  in  the  absence  of  a 
perpetual  miracle— which  Dr.  Bain,  I  suppose,  does 
not  postulate— how  should  it  be  otherwise,  when 
we  consider  the  units  of  which  the  majority  is 
composed  ?  Surely  Goethe  was  not  altogether 
unfounded  when  he  said,  "Nothing  is  more 
abhorrent  to  a  reasonable  man  than  an  appeal  to 
a  majority,  for  it  consists  of  a  few  strong  men  who 
lead,  of  knaves  who  temporise,  of  the  feeble  who 


54 


MATEBTALISTIC  ETHTCS. 


[CH. 


11.] 


THE  NEW  JUSTICE, 


55 


are  lianwrs  on,  and  of  tlio  nuiltitiulo  who  follow 
without  the  sliglitest  idea  of  what  thoy  want."  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  highest  moral  acts  which  the 
world  has  witnessed,  have  heeii  performed  in  the 
very  teeth  of  an  nniformity  of  social  disapprobation. 
A  primary  token  of  greatness  in  public  life  is  to  be 
absolutely  unswayed  by  the  ''  ardor  civium  prava 
jubentium."  And  pravity  it  is,  as  often  as  not,  for 
which  they  clamour.  Did  Socrates,  did  Jesus 
Christ,  found  themselves  upon  the  public  opinion  of 
the  communities  in  wliich  they  lived  ?  What  a  source 
for  the  motive  or  tlie  sanction  of  the  moral  law  ! 
But  more  ;  as  I  pointed  out  just  now,  tlie  tlieories 
of  Naturalism,  one  and  all  of  them,  held  by  the 
])rophets  of  the  new  ethics,  involve  Determinism. 
The  attempt  to  a2:>ply  the  laws  of  natural  liistory 
to  social  relations  issues,  logically  and  inevitably, 
in  tlie  doctrine  of  complete  moral  irresponsibility. 
What  rational  meaning  can  the  words  right  and 
wrong  possess,  if  the  human  mind  is  nothing  but 
a  bundle  of  sensations,  passively  received  and 
mechanically  modified  ?  Moral  obligation  pre- 
supposes, nay,  postulates,  a  certain  freedom  of  the 
will.  It  is  a  necessity  addressed  to  free  activities  ; 
not,  of  course,  absolutely  free,  but  relatively — free 
in  the  mysterious  depths  of  consciousness  to  choose 
between  motives.  ''  Du  kannst  Mensch  sein,  weil 
du  Mensch  sein  sollst." 

Here,  as  I  noted  in  the  last  chapter,  is  the  only 
ground  of  merit   and  demerit,   the  only  sufficient 


ji 


I 


I 


justification  of  that  penal  legislation  without  which 
society  could  not  hold  together.  Unless  you  admit 
free  will  and  goodness  in  itself,  absolute  right  and 
the  possibility  of  choosing  right,  no  reasonable 
theory  of  the  criminal  law  is  possible.  View  the 
malefactor  merely  in  the  light  of  physical  science, 
and  what  you  have  to  deal  with  is  not  a  free  agent 
responsible  for  the  evil  he  has  done,  because  he 
knew  the  wrong  and  might  have  refrained,  but  a 
temperament  dominated  by  irresistible  impulses, 
a  machine  nrged  to  the  fatal  deed  by  cerebral 
reaction.  If  the  murderer  merely  obeyed  physio- 
logical fatality  in  slaying  his  victim,  it  is  monstrous 
to  punish  him.  Wliere  there  is  no  responsibility 
there  is  no  guilt.  ''  But  his  execution  will  deter 
others."  Deter  others  !  Is  that  a  sufficient  reason 
for  hanging  an  innocent  person  ?  ''  But  any  punish- 
ment short  of  death,  at  all  events,  may  be  remedial." 
How  remedial,  if  Determinism  is  true  ?  Velle  non 
discitnr.  Such  is  the  working  of  the  new  morality  in 
the  sphere  of  criminal  jurisprudence.  Its  influence 
throughout  tlie  whole  of  the  public  order  cannot 
help  being  equally  monstrous.  It  saps  the  idea  of 
responsibility  in  individual  consciences.  Its  cardi- 
nal principle  is  supplied  by  the  maxim  of  Helv^tius, 
taken  in  all  its  nudity  and  crudity,  "  Tout  devient 
legitime  pour  le  salut  publique."  The  maxim  is 
absolutely  unethical.  It  makes  of  justice,  in  Plato's 
phrase,  merely  ^' the  interest  of  the  stronger." 
''  To  do  a  great  right,  do  a  little  wrong."    No;  ^4t 


56 


MATERIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


may  not  be."     The  only  ethical  principle  is,  that 


a 


-because  rl^:lit  is  riu-lit,  to  follow  riirlit 


Were  wisdom,  in  the  sjorn  of  consequence." 

Consequence!  It  is  beside  the  question.  '43etter 
were  it,"  says  Cardinal  Newman,  ^^for  sun  and 
moon  to  drop  from  heaven,  for  the  earth  to  fail, 
and  for  all  the  many  millions  who  arc  upon  it  to 
die  of  starvation  in  extremest  a^Tfonv,  so  far  as 
temporal  affliction  goes,  than  that  one  soul  sliould 
tell  one  willful  untruth,  though  it  harmed  no  one, 
or  steal  one  poor  farthing  without  excuse."*  This 
is  the  language  of  the  theologian,  l^ut  the  philo- 
sopher gives  a  like  judgment.  '^  The  dictum, 
^  All's  well  that  ends  well,'  "  Kant  happily  observes, 
"  has  no  place  in  morals."  And  morals  have  no 
real  place  in  any  philosophy  which  bases  itself  on 
the  doctrines  of  utilitarianism.  No  act  can  be 
obligatory,  in  the  proper  sense,  unless  it  is  binding 
upon  us,  without  regard  to  its  consequences,  and 
without  reference  to  any  personal  end.  j\Iorality  is 
nothinf]^  if  not  absolute.  It  is  nothinn:  but  a  mere 
regulation  of  police  in  any  system  of  philosophy, 
falsely  so  called,  based  solely  upon  the  physical 
sciences,  which  are  essentially  relative. 

Certain  it  is  that  there  is  no  school  of  Material- 
ists who  so  much  as  profess  to  care  for  duty,  for 
its  own  sake.  They  regard  it  as  a  mere  means  to 
delectation.  Thus,  they  tell  us  that,  for  the  future, 
the    highest  virtues  must   spring  from    sympathy. 

*  Anglican  Dij/icidtieSj  Lee.  viii.  §  4. 


)l 


if 


II.] 


.SYMPATHY  AND  DUTY. 


57 


Do  we  ask,  Why  ?  ''  Sympathy,"  they  confidently 
maintain,  ^^will  impel  us  to  seek  the  agreeable 
consciousness  that  results  from  the  healthy  exercise 
of  the  energies  of  our  nature,  and  to  promote  it  in 
others  by  the  practice  of  virtue  and  benevolence." 
''  A  deep  and  intelligent  sympathy  with  the  race  " 
is  to  supply  the  place  of  the  old  sanctions.  I  pity 
the  race.  There  is  no  conceivable  motive  why 
we  should  trouble  ourselves  about  the  welfare  of 
others  if  they  are  mere  automatic  organisms.  The 
''  agreeable  consciousness  that  results  from  the 
healthy  exercise  of  the  energies  of  our  nature " 
is  grotesquely  inadequate  to  support  the  old 
rule  of  right  action:  ''Fais  ce  que  dois,  advienne 
que  pourra."  Physical  science  is  utterly  unable 
to  supply  any  reason  wliy  we  sliould  ^^  prefer  a 
nol)le  life  before  a  long."  If  ever  M.  Renan,  Avho 
is  of  the  house  and  lineage  of  Balaam,  the  son  of 
Beor,  said  a  true  word,  it  is  this:  ^' L'interet  per- 
sonnel n'inspire  que  la  lachete."  It  is  an  insult 
to  my  understanding  to  tell  me  that  selfishness, 
however  sublimated,  can  yield  tlie  same  fruits  as 
self-sacrifice;  that  from  natural  history,  from  physio- 
logy, from  chemistry,  you  can  derive  the  elements 
of  moral  force.  Justice,  duty,  love,  can  be  rooted 
and  o^rounded  only  in  the  Absolute  and  Eternal. 
They  are  the  idlest  of  words,  if  no  echo  come  back 
to  them  from  beyond  the  grave.  ^^  Virtue  will 
never  cease  to  be  admirable  so  long  as  man  is 
man,"    a    Teutonic   Materialist  urges.      I    entirely 


58 


MATERIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


n.2:ree.  But  the  human  mammal  emptied  of  Per- 
sonality, Freewill,  Moral  Responsibility,  is  no 
lono-er  man.  ''He  had  him  from  me  Christian, 
and  look,  if  the  fat  viHain  liave  not  trans- 
formed liim  ape."  And  then,  assuredly,  virtue 
ceases  to  be  admirable  to  liim.  ^'Independent 
morality."  Yes.  1  quite  allow  tluit,  in  a  sense, 
morality  is  independent.  It  is  independent  of  all 
systems,  religious  and  metaphysical ;  of  all  facts, 
physiological  or  historical.  In  this  sense  it 
is  independent.  But  it  is  not  independent 
of  personality.  How  can  w^e  attribute  ethical 
qualities  to  a  thing  i"  I  maintain  that  wdicther 
morality  be  regarded  subjectively  or  objectively, 
Materialism  is  fatal  to  it.  Only  a  person  is  capable 
of  a  moral  act.  And  Materialism  effaces  per- 
sonalitv.  Let  IMaterialism  banish  from  the  world  the 
old  spiritual  dogmas  on  wliich  ethics  have  hitherto 
rested,  and  the  sombre  picture,  drawn  by  the  great 
poet  of  the  last  centmy,  will  assuredly  be  realised  : 


"  Religion,  blushino-,  veils  her  saered  fires, 
And,  unawares,  ^lorality  expires : 
Nor  public  flame,  uor  private,  dares  to  shine ; 
Nor  human  spark  is  left,  nor  glimpse  divine 


?> 


It  may  be  said  that  consequences  are  the  scare- 
crows of  fools ;  that  things  are  what  they  are,  and 
that  it  is  our  wisdom  to  see  them  as  thev  are: 
that  their  consequences  will  be  what  they  will  be, 


n.] 


A  BEDUCTIO  AB  ABSUnBUM. 


59 


and  can  in  no  way  alter  the  facts  of  which  thc}^  are 
the  outcome.     This  is  true  enough,  but  it  is  not  the 
whole  truth.     Consequences  assuredly  do   deserve 
our  attention.     We  must  reject  them,   decisively, 
as  a  criterion  of  morality.     We  are  bound  to  admit 
them  as  an  element  in  ratiocination.     A  reductio 
ad  absurdnm  is   a  good   logical   process.      Why  ? 
Because  man  consists  in  reason.     And  so  the  fact, 
that  the  doctrines  of  Materialism  issue  in  unreason, 
in  that  ^^  universal  darkness '*  of  which  Pope  pro- 
phesied, is  enough  to  discredit  them.     If  they  are 
true,  the  last  word  of  philosophy  is  spoken  in  the 
verse  of  Baudelaire,   ''  Eesigne-toi,  mon  ame,  dors 
ton  sommeil  de  brute."     But  to  tell  me  that  this 
is  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter,  is  in  flat 
contradiction  to  my  deepest  and  most  assured  cer- 
titudes.     Certain   to  me  is  the  reasonableness  of 
the  universe.     It  is  cosmos,  not  chaos.     Be  its  final 
cause  immeasurably  distant  from   our  knowledge, 
A'et   every  part  of   the   process   through  Avhich   it 
moves  is  found,  wdien  examined,  to  be  intelligible. 
^'Nothino:   is   that    errs    from    law."       There    are 
mvsteries,  indeed,  and  locked  doors,   everywhere. 
As  Hegel  saw,  every  convex  is  concave,  and  every 
concave  convex.     But  this  is  not  contradiction  nor 
unreason.     Certain  also  to  me  is  the  supremacy  of 
duty.     AVhatever  is  doubtful,  of  this  I  am  ineffably 
sure,  that  right   I  must  do,   whatever  the  result; 
that  on  the  side  of  right  I  must  be,   whether  it 
triumph    or   not.      And   as    certain   to   me   is  the 


60 


3IATEBIALTSTIC  ETHICS. 


[en, 


sacredness  of  love.  I  do  not  speak  of  those  (rmours 
cle  chair  at  which  we  glanced,  in  the  last  chapter, 
with  the  French  novelist ;  but  of  that  passion  for 
the  ideal,  which  is  the  light  of  life  : 

"  Luce  intellettnal,  plena  cl'amoro, 
Amor  di  vero  ben  pien  di  letizia, 
Letizia  che  trascende  ogni  dolzorc." 

But  that  which  in  my  heart  is  love,  in  my  con- 
science justice,  in  my  intellect  reason,  is  one  and 
the  same  thing ;  it  is  the  primary  truth  of  which 
my  whole  moral  being  is  full :  and  any  doctrine 
which  contradicts  it  is  condemned  already,  even 
if  it  were,  apparently,  as  well  established,  as  Mate- 
rialism is,  manifestly,  ill  established.  For,  in 
truth,  all  schools  of  3Iaterialists  are  confronted 
with  the  initial  difficulties  of  the  unity  of  conscious- 
ness, of  the  individuality  and  permanency  of  the 
Ego.  These  facts,  however  complex  and  obscure — 
and  I  fully  recognise  their  complexity  and  obscurity 
— are  the  stumbling-stone  of  every  school  of  Mate- 
rialists, just  as  they  are  the  adamantine  foundation 
of  all  spiritual  philosophy.  And  the  Avriter  who 
seeks  to  explain  them  away,  who  asks  me  to  believe, 
upon  his  ipse  dixit,  that  consciousness  is  a  mere 
fortuitous  result  of  mechanism,  that  thought  is  a 
mere  cerebral  secretion,  that  the  Ego  is  a  mere 
sensation,  is  a  dogmatist  who  makes  far  greater 
demands  upon  my  faith  than  any  medieval  hagio- 
logist  or  Talmudic  commentator.  I  know  not  any 
article  of  any  creed,   which   so  largely  taxes  my 


11.] 


aOBBUPTEBS  OF  W0BD8. 


61 


credulity,  as  does  the  proposition  that  there  can  be 
consciousness  without  personality,  memory  without 
identity,  duty  without  liberty. 

No  sort  of  compromise,  no  kind  of  modus  vivendi, 
appears  to  me  possible  between  the  two  schools  of 
Transcendentalism  and  Materialism.     I   admit  in- 
deed that  we  may  learn  much  from  many  teachers, 
whose  theories  I  judge  most  false.     Let  us  gladly 
accept  their  facts.     Let  us  also  narrowly  scrutinise 
their  arguments.      The  writers  whom   I   have   m 
view,    however    admirable   in   other   respects,    are 
assuredly  great  corrupters    of  words.      Too  often 
they  exhibit  the  smallest  power  of  distinguishing 
between    a   nude   hypothesis   and   a   proved    con- 
clusion.      They     omit    necessary    links    in    their 
reasoning,  as  when,   for  example,  they   pass  at  a 
bound  over  the  unbridged  gulf  between  automatic 
consciousness  and  deliberate   volition.      They  tell 
ns,   perhaps  not  quite   accurately,  that   the   brain 
is  the  organ  of  thought,*  and  then  they  proceed 
to  argue  as  though  they  had  demonstrated  that  it 
is  the  cause  of  thought,  and  that  intellect  is  a  mere 
'^cerebral    phenomenon."       They    talk    glibly   of 
causation,  as  if  they  knew  all  about  it,  overlooking 
their  entire  inability  to  analyse  the  causal  nexus. 
And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  way  in  which  they 

*  I  should  prefer  saying  that  the  bvaln  is  the  organ,  not  of 
thouiclit,  but  of  the  phantasmata  ^Yhich  furnish  thought  with 
matedals:  it  is  the  organ  of  imagination,  in  the  highest 
sense. 


62 


MATERIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


liabitiuilly  employ  the  term  law  ?  It  really  means, 
ill  physics,  no  more  than  ^^an  observed  uniformity 
of  sequence  or  coexistence."  But  they  give  it  a 
sort  of  personification,  and  speak  of  it  as  a  cause. 
They  confound  it  with  necessity,  forgetting  that 
there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world  between 
invariable  regularity  and  necessary  regularity.  I 
confess  that  I  often  put  down  tlie  pompous  pages 
of  some  of  tlie  most  famous  of  them  and  say  to 
myself— yielding,  perliaps,  too  readily,  to  a  pro- 
fessional instinct—'^  If  only  I  could  have  you  under 
cross-examination  for  half  an  hour  !  How  easy  it 
Avould  be  to  turn  you  inside  out,  to  show  what 
a  muss  of  arbitrary  assuniption,  of  confused  ratio- 
cination, of  audacious  sophism,  all  this  brilliant 
rhetoric  is  I " 

But  let  us  remember  that  philosophy  is  the 
science  of  principles,  and  so  ought  to  be  encyclical, 
encyclopaedic.  It  must  no  more  neglect  the  exact 
sciences  than  the  moral.  ^^A  wider  metaphysic 
would  not  harm  our  jjhysic  ''  is  an  abundantly  true 
warning.  Equally  true  is  it,  that  a  wider  physic 
would  not  harm  our  metaph}\sic.  It  fills  mo  with 
amazement  to  see  the  arguments  still  resorted  to  by 
men,  learned  in  a  fashion,  and  full  of  goodwill,  but 
quite  unacquainted  with  the  true  bearings  of  the 
problems  which  agitate  the  modern  mind,  nay, 
totally  devoid  of  the  intellectual  training  necessary 
in  order  so  much  as  to  appreciate  them.  Their 
blindness   to  the  signs  of   the  times  is  well-nio>h 


II.] 


NEW  LIGHT  ON  OLD  QUESTIONS. 


68 


miraculous.  They  do  not  seem  to  possess  even 
that  sensitive  membrane  which,  Darwin  tells  us, 
is  the  beginning  of  the  eye.  Who,  that  is  at  all 
competent  to  judge,  can  deny  that  the  })rogress  of 
the  sciences,  during  the  present  century,  has  largely 
revolutionised  the  world  of  thought,  or  doubt  that 
many  old  questions  assume  quite  a  new  aspect 
in  the  light  now  shed  upon  them  ?  To  take  one 
instance  only,  Transcendentalism  is  by  no  means 
bound  up  with  those  dualistic  conceptions,  which  posit 
matter  and  mind  as  two  incomprehensibly  related 
substances,  eternally  alien  from  each  other,  and 
irreconcilably  hostile.  For  myself,  every  day 
that  I  live,  I  become  more  confirmed  in  the  belief 
which  I  expressed  some  years  ago,  that  "  the  old 
wall  of  partition  between  spirit  and  matter  is  crack- 
ing in  all  directions,''  that  '^  we  shall  come  to  recog- 
nise a  thinking  substance,  of  which  thought  is  the 
foundation,  not  the  resultant."  *  Even  now — in 
words  which  I  gladly  borrow  from  Mr.  Romanes — 
may  we  not  regard  ''  any  sequence  of  natural 
causation  as  the  merely  phenomenal  aspect  of  the 
ontological  reality,  the  outward  manifestation  of  an 

*  See  Ancient  lielic/wn  and  Modern  Thovr/ht,-pip.  340-345.  This 
view  was  practically  admitted  in  the  old  scholastic  philosophy,  when 
the  ])otentiality  of  so-called  matter  to  put  on  froj^h  qiialit-es  was 
allowed,  though  but  slightly  analysed.  It  is  the  teaching  of  the 
Angelic  Doctor  that  matter,  nviteria  pi-ima,  is  not  a  substance, 
cannot  exist  by  itself,  is  pcene  nihil,  and  is  susceptible  of  endless 
transformations,  all  of  which  are  due  to  higher  and  immaterial 
energies. 


64 


MATEBIALISTIC  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


II.] 


BOGTA  IGNOEANTIA. 


65 


inward   meaning?"     The   reality  is  spiritual,  the 
phenomenon  merely  the  shadow  and  the  symbol. 
Materialism,  like  all  errors,   is  but  the   distortion 
of  a  truth.     It  is  a  false  expression  of  that  ten- 
dency to  unity  which  is  so  marked  a  characteristic 
of  the  modern  mind,  and  which   is  not  false.     A 
century  ago  Lessing  pronounced  tv  koX  irav  the  last 
word  of  philosophy.     Whatever  exception  may  be 
taken  to   the  formula,  assuredly,  it  adumbrates  a 
great  verity.     And  as  assuredly  none  can  be  farther 
removed   from    the    apprehension    of    that    verity, 
than  those  who,  like  Diderot,  discern  in  the  uni- 
verse nothing  but  ''  one  and  the  same  phenomenon 
indefinite!}^   diversified."       Enveloped   as   we   are, 
according  to  the  profound  doctrine  of  the  old  Vedic 
sages,  in   the  veil   of  Maya,  what  grosser  illusion 
can    there    be  than  to  mistake  tlie  fleeting    shows 
apprehensible  by  our  senses  for  the  Self -Existent  ? 
''  Of    Him,    and    by    Ilim,    and    in    Him    are   all 
things."      Most   near   and    most   hidden,   all   phe- 
nomena consist  by  Him,  all  plienomena  point  to 
Him,  His  indwelling  leads  us  to  His  transcendence. 
''AVer   darf    ihn    nennen  ? "— ^^  Who    dare    name 
Him?"— the  poet  asks.*     And  the  question  may 
Avell  seem  reverent,  when  we  think  how  men  talk 
of  the  Absolute  and  Eternal  as  if  He  were  alto- 
gether such  an  one  as  themselves,  as  if  He  were 


the  man  in  the  next  room.  Let  us  celebrate  that 
higher  ignorance,  that  docta  ignorantia^  as  the 
mystics  speak,  which  is  the  hist  word  alike  of 
physics,  of  philosophy,  of  religion.  ^^Deveni  in 
altitudinem  maris  et  silui." 


•4 


*  Compare  St.  Augustine,  Quid  dicit  aliqnis,  cum  de  Te  dicit  ? 
Et  VcT  tacentibus  de  Te;  quoniam  loquaces  muti  sunt.  Confts. 
1.  i.  c.  4. 


^HjcT 


p 


11.]     MR.  8FENCE1VS  GliOWNING  ACHIEVEMENT.   67 


ll 


CHAPTER   111. 


EYOLrTIONARY   ETHICS. 


It  is  not  very  easy  to  over-estimate  the  extent  to 
wliicli  the  modern  mind  has  been  stirred  by  the 
doctrines  popularly  associated  witli  the  name  of 
Charles  Darwin.  There  is  no  department  of  human 
thought,  no  sphere  of  human  life,  in  wliich  the  in- 
fluence of  what  is  called  the  evolutionary  philosophy 
is  not  felt.  I  say  advisedly,  ^' what  is  called"; 
for  evolution  really  exhibits  the  mode,  not  the 
cause,  of  development,  and  its  ascertained  facts  lend 
themselves  to  various  interpretations.  When,  how- 
ever, the  evolutionary  philosophy  is  spoken  of,  the 
hypothesis  of  the  universe  so  elaborately  formulated 
by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  is  usually  meant.  It  is 
that  hypothesis  which  Professor  Huxley  has  blessed 
and  approved  as  the  ^^  only  complete  and  methodi- 
cal exposition  of  the  theory  of  evolution  "  known 
to  him,  "  a  w^ork  that  should  be  carefully  studied  by 
those  who  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
tendencies  of  scientific  thought."  This  seems  to  be 
fair  enough.     No  one  can  deny  to  Mr.  Spencer  the 


praise  of  method,  or,  in  a  certain  s^nse,  of  complete- 
ness ;  and  unquestionably  he  does  exhibit  clearly 
the  tendencies  of  an  influential  school  of  contempo- 
rary physicists.  I  do  not  doubt  that  all  future 
theories  of  the  universe  will  have  to  reckon  with  the 
facts  so  industriously  colleoted  by  Mr.  Spencer,  and 
with  the  speculations  into  w^hicli  he  has  so  ingeni- 
ously fitted  them.  But  I  do  take  leave  to  doubt 
whether  the  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution, 
which  we  owe  to  him,  will  ultimately  be  accejDted 
as  the  true  one.  It  appears  to  me  too  narrow,  too 
superficial,  too  mechanical,  too  inadequate  to  life. 
Its  completeness  is  attained  by  disregarding  funda- 
mental principles,  both  of  metaphysics  and  of  logic. 
And,  notwithstanding  its  parade  of  physical  science, 
it  is  not  really  founded  upon  experience  at  all.  At 
present,  however,  it  is  unquestionably  a  potent  fac- 
tor in  the  world's  tliouirht. 


My  purpose  here  is  not  to  examine  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer's  philosophy  as  a  whole.  I  am  now  con- 
cerned with  only  one  department  of  it,  the  ethical. 
It  seems  worth  while,  in  view  of  the  wide  in- 
fluence, both  direct  and  indirect,  exercised  by  Mr. 
Spencer's  writings,  to  devote  a  chapter  to  the 
evolutionary  morality  of  which  lie  is  the  prophet.  To 
this  part  of  his  system,  as  appears  from  the  intro- 
duction to  his  Data  of  Ethics,  he  attaches  peculiar 
importance.     His  disciples  are  wont  to  glorify  it  as 

F  2 


68 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


III.]         MB.  SPENCER'S  METHOD  IN  MORALS. 


the  crowninn;  achievement  of  their  masters  philo- 
sophy.     And,  assuredly,  it  is  the  most  noteworthy 
endeavcur  known  to  me,  to  establisli  the  rules  of 
right  conduct  upon  a  new  basis.     That  basis  Mr. 
Spencer  calls  ^^  scientific."     He  shall  himself  explain 
what  he  means  by  the  adjective.     "  The  considera- 
tion of  the  moral  phenomena,  as  phenomena  of  evo- 
lution," he  writes,  is   '^forced"  upon   us,   because 
'^  they  form  a  part  of  the  aggregate  of  phenomena 
wliicli  evolution  has  wrought  out.     If  the   entire 
physical  universe  has  been    evolved — if  the   solar 
system,  as  a  Avhole,  the  earth,  as  a  part  of  it,  the 
life,  in  general,  which  the   earth  bears,  as  well  as 
that  of    each  individual   organism — if   the  mental 
phenomena   displayed  by  all    creatures  up  to  the 
hio-liest,  in  common  with  the  i)henomena  presented 
by  ao'OTeo-ates  of  these  highest — if  one  and  all  con- 
form  to  the  laws  of  evolution  ;  then  the  necessary 
implication  is  that  those  phenomena  of  conduct,  in 
the  highest  creatures,  with  which  morality  is  con- 
cerned, also  conform."*     But  these  ^^  laws  of  evo- 
lution" are  considered  by  Mr.  Spencer  as  purely 
physical.     He  expressly  tells  us  that  '^  a  redistribu- 
tion of  matter  and  motion  constitutes  evolution."t 
'^  The  deepest  truths  we  can  reach  " — in  morals,  as 
elsewhere— are,  he  assures  us,  ^'simply  statements 
of  the  widest  uniformities  in  our  experience  of  the 
relations  of  Matter,  Motion  and  Force."  | 

-=  Diitu  of  Ethics,  i  23. 

t  H)i(l.  §  20.     Tlio  italics  arc  mine 

+  First 'Principles^  §   194. 


69 


1- 


Such,  according  to  Mr.  Spencer,  is  the  evolutioi 
ary  method  in  moral  philosophy.      It  is  a  purely 
physical  method.     I  said  in  my  last  chapter  :   ^^  In 
the  long  run  there  are  onl}^  two  schools  of  ethics, 
the  hedonistic  and  the  transcendental ;    only  two 
possible  foundations  of    morality,   conscience  and 
concupiscence."     There  can  be  no  doubt  to  wliich 
of  these  schools  Mr.  Spencer  belongs  ;  upon  which 
of  these  foundations  he  builds.     Unquestionably  he 
must  be  reckoned  Avith  those  ''  men  of  science  "  wdio 
derive  morality  ''  from  physical  law,  grounded  solely 
on  what  they  call  experience,  and  on  analysis  of  and 
deductions  from  experience;"  who  '^insist  that  there 
is  no  essential  difference  between  the  moral  and  the 
physical  order ;  who  agree  in  the  negation  of  pri- 
mary and  final  causes,  of  the  soul  and  of  freewill; 
who  eliminate  moral  liberty  as  a  useless  spring  in 
the  machinery  of  matter ;  who  conceive  of  man  as 
an  animal  Avhose  motive  principle  is  what  they  call 
liappiness."     Experience  and  expediency — to  these 
principles  in  the  domain  of  knowledge  and  of  action, 
they  reduce  all  philosophy  and  all  morality.  And  so 
does  Mr.  Spencer. 

But  I  may  at  once  be  met  witli  the  objection, 
^^  You  are  going  in  the  teeth  of  Mr.  Spencer's  re- 
peated declaration  that  he  adopts  neither  experience 
nor  expediency  as  his  foundation.  Has  he  not 
severely  criticised  Bentham  and  the  axiom,  ^  The 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number '  in  his 
Social  Statics,  and  in  The  Data  of  Ethics  ?     Has 


I 


'0 


EVOLUTIOXARY  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


III.] 


MR.  SPEXCER'S  UTILITARIANISM. 


71 


he  not,  witli  equal  vigour,  assailed  the  doctrine  of 
experience  upheld  by  Mill,  substituting  for  it  another 
in  which  tribal  considerations  take  the  place  of  indi- 
vidual instincts  ?     You  must  not  interpret  a  writer 
against  his  own  expressly  intended  meaning."     To 
this  I  reply,  It  is  quite  true  that  Mr.  Spencer  is 
neither  a  Bentlinmist  nor  an  adherent  of  Mr.  Mill's 
association-philosophy.      True,  likewise,   is  it  that 
he  does  not  confine  himself  to  the  experience  of  the 
individual,  or  adopt  the  bald  empiricism  which  sums 
up  morality  as  enlightened  self-interest.     But  it  is 
none  the  less  true,  first,  that  he  dissents  utterly  from 
the  transcendental  school  as  to  the   foundation  of 
ethics  ;  secondly,  that  he  denies  free-will  in  every 
possible  sense,  and  subordinates  morality  to  the  laws 
of  life,  which   laws  he  accounts  of  as  purely  phy- 
sical; and  thirdly,  that  he  resolves  right  conduct 
into  the  pursuit  of  happiness  or  pleasure.     To  expe- 
rience and  expediency  he  comes  at  last,  be  the  pro- 
cess ever  so  complicated.     That  fact  all  his  dexterity 
in  evolving  laws  of  conduct  from  tribal  selfishness 
cannot  conceal,  and  will  not  abolish.     It  matters 
nothing  whether  his  point  of  departure  is  the  race 
or  the  individual.     Morality  so  conceived,  I  contend, 
whether  in   the   race  or  in  the  individual,    is  not 
morality  at  all,  but  something  else  ;  the  principle 
upon  which  Mr.  Spencer  builds,  when  stripped  of  its 
disguises,  is  not  conscience  but  concupiscence.     To 
call  him  a  particular  Hedonist  would  be  unjust.    lie 
is  an  universal  Hedonist,  or  sav  ''  ^  rational  Utili- 


.1 

I 


tarian,"  if  you  will :  and  in  that  capacity  he  is  as 
liable  to  the  objections  urged  in  my  last  chapter,  as 
are  Bentham,  Mill,  and  Littre,  as  are  Dr.  Bain  and 
Professor  Huxley. 


I  shall  turn  to  Mr.  Spencer's  own  works  for  the 
evidence  upon  which  I  rest  these  three  counts  of  my 
indictment.  The  following  well-known  and  ex- 
tremely significant  words  are  alone  sufficient  to 
establish  the  first :  ''  There  have  been,  and  still  are, 
developing  in  the  race  certain  fundamental  moral 
intuitions,  and  though  these  moral  intuitions  are  the 
results  of  accumulated  experiences  of  Utility,  gradu- 
ally  organised  and  inherited,  they  have  come  to  be 
quite  independent  of  conscious  experience.  Just  in 
the  same  wav  that  I  believe  the  intuition  of  space 
possessed  by  any  living  individual  to  have  arisen 
from  organised  and  consolidated  experiences  of  all 
antecedent  individuals  who  bequeathed  to  him  their 
slowly  developed  nervous  organisations— just  as  I 
believe  that  this  intuition,  requiring  only  to  be  made 
definite  and  complete  by  personal  experiences,  has 
practically  become  a  form  of  thought  apparently 
quite  independent  of  experience;  so  do  I  believe 
that  the  experiences  of  utility  organised  and  consoli- 
dated through  all  past  generations  of  the  human 
race,  have  been  producing  corresponding  nervous 
modifications,  which,  by  continued  transmission  and 
accumulation,  havQ  become  in  us  certain  faculties  of 


! 


72 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


moral  intuition — certain  emotions  responding  to 
riglit  and  wrong  conduct,  which  have  no  apparent 
basis  in  the  individual  experiences  of  utility."*  I  am 
quite  prepared  to  call  this,  as  its  author  calls  it, 
'^rational  utilitarianism."  That  it  is  not  baldly  empi- 
rical is,  to  speak  technically,  merely  its  differentia  as 
a  species  of  that  genus,  but  cannot  remove  it  into 
another  e^enus  altoo'etlier — the  transcendental.  Nor, 
indeed,  would  Mr.  Spencer  consent  to  our  so  remov- 
ing it.  On  this  point  he  is  not  in  any  way  ambigu- 
ous. Of  the  transcendental  doctrine  he  is  the 
persistent  opponent.  Mr.  Spencer  entirely  denies 
absolute  ethics  in  the  old  sense.  There  can  be  no 
eternal  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  he  insists. 
AVhy  ?  Because  we  could  attribute  righteousness 
to  the  "  power  manifested  through  phenomena," 
only  by  supposing  it  capable  of  unrighteousness  also. 
And  ^'how  can  Unconditioned  Being  be  subject  to 
conditions  beyond  itself ?"t  How,  indeed!  Mr. 
Spencer  is  supposed,  by  his  disciples,  to  be  here  dis- 
playing singular  metaphysical  acuteness.  The  truth 
is  that  he  is  really  misled  by  his  assumptions  of  the 
most  arbitrary  a  priori  description  regarding  the 
Ultimate  Reality.  His  argument  would  be  good 
only  if,  as  the  old  so2:)hists  taught,  ''  Man  is  the 
measure  of  all  tilings."  But  he  proceeds,  ''  Eight 
and  wrong  as  conceived  by  us  can  exist  only  in 
relation  to  the  actions  of  creatures  capable  of 
pleasures  and  pains  ;  seeing  that  analysis  carries  us 

*  Data  of  Ethics,  §  45.  f   ^^^i^-    §  99. 


III.] 


ME.  SPENCER  AND  BENTHAM. 


73 


back  to  pleasures  and  pains  as  the  elements  out  of 
which   the    conceptions    are  framed."*      Thus   we 
arrive  at  an  absolutely  unmoral  "  nature  of  things," 
and  the  words  right  and  wrong  are  seen  to  have  only 
a  subjective  meaning,  and  only  a  mere  momentary 
consequence  in  the  evolution  of  being.    Mr.  Spencer's 
controversy  with  Bentham  is  not  about  the  source  of 
ethics.     "  I  conceive  it  to  be  the  business  of  Moral 
Science,"  he  writes,  ^^to  deduce,  from  the  laws  of 
life  and  the  conditions  of  existence,  what  kinds  of 
action  necessarily  tend  to  produce  happiness,  and 
what   kinds  to  produce  unhappiness."t     Bentham 
would  quite  agree,  and  so,  by  the  way,  would  Pro- 
fessor Huxley,  who,  as  Ave  have  seen,  seeks  the  ulti- 
mate basis  of  morality  ''  in  the  laws  of  comfort.'' 
But  let  us  hear  Mr.  Spencer  further.     "  Its  deduc- 
tions," he  says  of  his  own  ethical  science,  ''  are  to 
be  recognised  as  laws  of  conduct ;  and  are  to  be  con- 
formed to  irrespective  of  a  direct  estimation  of  hap- 
piness or  misery."     A  direct  estimation  of  liappiness 
or  misery.     The  adjective  gives  the  measure  of  the 
difference    between    Mr.    Spencer's    doctrine    and 
Bcntham's.     The  difference  is  not  essential.     It  re- 
lates to  a  mere  matter  of  detail.     For  whether  the 
estimation  be  direct  or  indirect,  the  things  estimated 
are  always  happiness  or  misery ;  that  is  to  say,  as 
the  last  word  proves  conclusively,  pains  or  pleasures. 
I,  the  individual,  need  not  calculate,  because,  thanks 
to  the  laws  of  heredity,  I  have  a  ready-reckoner  in 

-  Data  of  Ethics,  §  09.  t  ^^^^'  §  21. 


74 


EVOLiTTTONAP.Y  ETITTCS, 


[CH. 


HI.] 


MB.  SFENCEU  ON  FBEEWILL. 


75 


my  brain.  The  tribe  lias  been  good  enoiigli  to  cal- 
culate for  me,  and  all  I  am  called  u^Don  to  do  is  to 
read  down  the  tables  of  figures.  Tliose  tables  are 
^'the  laws  of  conduct."  They  may  be  such,  on  the 
utilitarian  theory.  Tliev  can  be  such  on  no  other. 
AVliat,  indeed,  are  they  save  formulas  of  ^'  utility? 
not  as  empirically  estimated,  but  as  rationally  deter- 
mined?'' Mr.  Spencer  lias  proclaimed  over  and 
over  again  tliat  reason  is  bounded  by  experience. 
His  non-empiricism  is  only  the  tribal  element  con- 
trasted with  the  individual.  I  claim  to  have  shown, 
in  my  last  chapter,  tliat  it  is  impossible  to  derive  any 
rational  criterion  of  right  and  wrong  from  eitlier. 
Mr.  Spencer's  method  in  morals,  as  elsewhere,  is,  I 
repeat,  purely  physical,  tliough  ho  takes  as  his  unit 
of  force  the  race,  and  not  any  one  member  of  it. 
AYith  regard  to  this  fundamental  question  of  the 
source  of  ethics,  he  is  divided  from  transcendental 
moralists  by  an  impassable  gulf. 


And  this  brings  me  to  my  second  point.  I 
consider,  as  I  stated  in  my  last  chapter,  that  the 
ethical  imperative  carries  Avith  it  the  idea  and  the 
fact  of  free  volition.  "Moral  obligation,"  I  wrote^ 
^' pre-supposes,  nay  postulates,  a  certain  liberty  of 
the  will.  It  is  a  necessity  addressed  to  free  activi- 
ties :  not,  of  course,  absolutely  free,  but  relatively: 
free  in  the  mysterious  depths  of  consciousness  to 
choose  between  motives.     Du  kannst  Menscli  sein, 


well  du  Mcnsch  sciii  sollst."  Now,  that  Uv.  Spencer 
denies  freewill,  we  all  of  course  know.      But  it  may 
bo  well  to  show,  from  his  works,  how  sweeping  this 
denial  is,  and  what  it  involves.     Consider,  then,  the 
following  extracts  from  the  Frinciples  of  Fs>/eJio- 
Jofpj.     "  Memorj',  Reason,  and  Feeling,  simultane- 
ously arise  as  the  automatic  actions  become  complex, 
infrequent,   and  hesitating;    and   Will,  arising   at 
the  same  time,  is  necessitated  by  the  same  con- 
ditions.*     "When  the  automatic  actions  become 
so  involved,   so    varied  in  kind,   and  severally  so 
infrequent,    as    no   longer   to   be    performed   witli 
unhesitating  precision-when  after  the  reception  of 
one  of  the  more  complex  impressions,  the  appro- 
priate   motor   changes   become    nascent,   but    arc 
prevented  from  passing  into  immediate  action  by 
the   antagonism    of    certain    other   nascent   motor 
changes  appropriate  to  some  nearly  allied  impres- 
sion r  there  is  constituted  a  state  of  consciousness 
whicii,  when  it  finally  issues  in  action,  displays  what 
we    term    volition."!       "That  Will    comes   into 
existence  through  the   increasing  complexity  and 
imperfect  coherence  of  automatic  actions,  is  clearly 
implied  by  the  converse  fact,  that  when  the  actions 
which  wore  once  incoherent  and  voluntary  are  very 
frequently   repeated,   they   become    coherent    and 
involuntary."  t      "  ^e  have,  therefore,  a  conflict 
between  two  sets  of  ideal  "-Mr.   Spencer  means 

*  rrlnciph'S  of  Psychol of/i/,  §  217. 

t  Ibid.  §  218.  t  ^*"'- 


76 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS, 


[CH. 


III.] 


MB.  SFENCEB  ON  THE  EGO. 


77 


imairined — '^ motor  clianf^res  which  severally  tend  to 
become  real,  and  one  of  which  eventually  does 
become  real ;  and  this  passing  of  an  ideal  motor 
change  into  a  real  one,  we  distinguish  as  Will."  * 
Hence  he  denies  freedom  of  the  will  in  set  terms, 
and  proceeds:  ^' All  actions  whatever  must  be 
determined  by  those  psychical  connections  which 
experience  has  generated,  either  in  the  life  of  the 
individual,  or  in  that  general  antecedent  life  of 
whicli  the  accumulated  results  are  organised  in  his 
constitution."  t  He  then  goes  on  to  ^'briefly 
indicate,"  the  nature  of  the  current  illusion.  It 
simply  ''  consists  in  supposing  that  at  each  moment 
the  e(/o  is  something  more  than  the  aggregate  of 
feelings  and  ideas,  actual  and  nascent,  which  then 
exists."  t  Thus  it  is  that,  '^  a  man  ....  is  led 
into   the    error  of    supposing  that  it  was  not  tlie 

impulse  alone  which  determined  the  action 

Naturally  enough  ....  he  says  that  he  wills  the 
action  since,  psychically  considered,  he  is,  at  that 
moment,  nothing  more  than  the  composite  state  of 
ccmsciousness  by  which  the  action  is  excited.  ]3ut 
to  say  that  the  performance  of  the  action  is,  there- 
fore, tlie  result  of  his  freewill,  is  to  say  that  he 
determines  the  cohesions  of  the  psychical  states 
which  arouse  the  action;    and  as  these  psychical 

"^Principles  of  Psychology,  §  218.  It  should  not  be  forgotten 
that  the  words  "ideal,"  "a  priori,"  '-necessary,"  and  the  like,  are 
seldom  used  by  Mr.  Spencer  in  their  proper  metaphysical  sense. 

t  Ibid.  §  219.  X  Ibid. 


states  constitute  lilmsolf  at  tliat  moment,  that  is  to 
say  that  these  psychical  states  determine  their  own 
cohesions,  which  is  absurd.     Their  cohesions  have 
been  determined  by  experiences-the  greater  part 
of    them   constituting    what   we   call   his   natural 
character,  by  the  experiences  of  antecedent  organ- 
isms ;    and    the    rest    by    his    own    experiences. 
The   changes   which   at   each   moment  take  place 
in     his    consciousness,   and    among    others    those 
which   he   is   said  to  will,    are   produced   by  this 
iniinitude   of   previous   experiences,    registered   in 
his    nervous    structure,  co-operating  with  the  im- 
mediate  impressions    on   his    senses."*      We   are 
tcjld  that  we  must  not  call  Mr.  Spencer  a  materialist. 
But  crasser  Materialism  than  this  I  have  never  met 
with  in  the  course  of  my  reading.     At  the  same 
time  it  flatly  contradicts  the  doctrine   of  the  Un- 
knowable, which  in  First  Principles  is  said  to  do 
everything,  and  to  be  in  all  our  acts,  but  which  is 
certainly  neither   a  registered  experience,  nor  an 
impression  on  our  senses.     Mr.  Spencer  continues, 
"  This  subjective  illusion  in  which  the  notion  of 
freewill  commonly  originates,  is  strengthened  by  a 
corresponding  objective  illusion.     The  actions  of 
other  individuals  ....  appear  to  be  under  no  neces- 
sity of  following  any  particular  order.      But  this 
seeming  indeterminateness  ....  is  consequent  on 
the  extreme  complication  of   the  forces  in  action. 

^-  Ibkl.     I  have  been  obliged  to  abridge,  but   I  believe  I  buvo 
given  fully  the  gist  of  Mn  Spencer's  argument. 


78 


-  EVOLUTIONAUY  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


....  The  effects  arc  not  calculable,"  but  are 
really  "  as  conformable  to  law  as  the  simplest 
reflex  actions.  The  irregularity  and  apparent 
freedom  are  inevitable  results  of  the  complexity, 
and  " — I  beg  tlie  readers  particular  attention  to 
this — ''  equal!  1/  arise  ui  the  organic  world  under 
parallel  conditions'^'  To  make  it  quite  clear, 
Mr.  Spencer  illustrates  f  ^^the  delusion  of  free- 
will "  from  the  motion  of  a  body  acting  under 
various  attracting  forces.  Let  us  say  the  moon  for 
instance.  Man  is  quite  as  free  tlierefore  as  the 
moon  in  his  motions ;  neither  more  nor  less.  It  is 
a  most  marvellous  statement !  Do  Ave,  in  fact, 
ascribe  freewill  to  a  body  whose  moticm  is  complex? 
Is  that  the  reason  why  we  consider  other  men 
possessed  of  it  ?  But  to  go  on  with  Mr.  Spencer's 
argument.  Here  is  the  crown  of  it.  ''  Psychical 
changes  either  conform  to  law  or  they  do  not.  If 
they  do  not  conform  to  law,  this  work,  in  common 
with  all  works  on  the  subject,  is  sheer  nonsense  : 
no  science  of  Psychology  is  possible.  If  they  do 
conform  to  law,  there  cannot  be  any  such  thing  as 
freewill."  He  adds  yet  this:  '^  Preedom  of  the 
will  would  be  at  variance  with  the  beneiicent 
necessity  dis2)layed   in   the   evolution   of   the    cor- 

*  Ihid.     The  italics  are  mine. 

f  Mr.  Klrknian  in  liis  Philosophy  without  A-'^siu/iptioiis  (pp.  :?14- 
223)  lias  some  exceedingly  tronchnnt  criticism  on  this  ])a8sage. 
That  work  was  published  in  lb7G.  1  am  not  aware  that  ]\Ir. 
Spencer  has  since  corrected  an  illustratic^n,  justly  described  by  Mr. 
Kirkman  as  ''  the  most  astonishin<i:  that  ever  decorated  a  book   of 


science. 


)j 


ii[.]  ME.  SPENCER'S  '^  BENEFICENT  NECESSITY.''  79 

respondence  between  the  organism  and  the  environ- 
ment." *     Beneficent  necessity  !  t    Shall  Ave  reckon 
a  few   of   its  results?      Not  only  fevers,   cholera, 
black  death,  rattle-snakes,  cobras  and  the  tsetze  fly, 
I) ^t— what  is  even  more  to  our  present  purpose — 
all   liars,    thieves,   murderers,   whoremongers    and 
adulterers :  the  Neros,  Caligulas,  Cartouches,  Wain- 
wrights  of  every  age.     T'heir  actions  were  only  a 
greater  or  less  degree  of  '^  correspondence  between 
the    organism    and    the     environment."        "  The 
answering    phenomena"     result     '*from    the    ac- 
cumulation    of     experiences,"     and     ''  would     be 
hindered  did  there  exist  anything  which  otherwise 
caused  their  cohesions." J      Rather  than    ''hinder 
the  cohesions  "  of  a  Borgia,  of  a  Marquis  de  Sades, 
we  must  show  that  freewill  is  an  objective  and  sub- 
jective delusion. 

It  is  a  tempting  theme !  But  I  must  turn  away 
from  it  to  say  one  word  on  what  I  really  am  obliged 
to  call  Mr.  Spencer's  sophism  about  conformity  to 

'"'  Principles  of  Pxychology^  §  220. 

I  ''  Beneficent  necessity."'  But,  as  we  have  seen,  ]Mr.  Spencer 
teaches  an  absolutely  unmoral  "  nature  of  things."  AVill  he  con- 
tinue to  preach  beneficent  necessity  ^vhen  he  has  told  us  that  such 
beneficence  implies  no  intention  whatever  of  benefitting  ?  Surely 
behind  the  dreary  verbiage  of  optimism  with  which  ]\lr.  Spencer's 
volumes  are  replete,  we  may  discern,  if  we  have  eyes,  a  creed  of  the 
blankest,  blindest  indifference,  the  eternally  stupid  Unknowable, 
not  80  far  advanced  as  the  much-despised  Devil  of  popular  Chris- 
tianity, for  that  personage,  at  least,  can  interest  himself  in  our 
damnation,  whereas  the  Unknowable  has  not  the  wit  even  to  do 
wrong,  much  less  to  be  always  devising  it. 

X  Ibid. 


80 


EVOLVTIONABY  ETHIC S. 


[CH. 


III.] 


MR.   SFENCEB'S  RULE   OF  BIGHT. 


8] 


law.  What  does  Mr.  Spencer  mean  by  law? 
Evidently,  in  tliis  place,  that  which  musl  be:  which 
necessarily  comes  to  pass.  But  tliis  is  a  begging  of 
the  question  ;  for  it  is  by  no  means  clear  that  there 
may  not  be  a  free  and  deliberately  chosen  conformity 
to  law,  as  all  men  who  believe  at  once  in  morality 
and  freewill,  say  there  is.  And  again,  the 
teaching  of  pliysical  science  as  expounded,  for 
example,  by  Professor  Huxley,  is  that  it  knows 
nothing  of  necessity,  but  goes  upon  uniform  experi- 
ence. Here  is  one  of  the  many  dilemmas  in  which 
Mr.  Spencer  finds  himself.  Either  he  maintains 
a  genuine  intrinsic  necessity,  and  for  this  he  has 
no  warrant  from  '^  science,"  or  he  maintains  a  coun- 
terfeit necessity,  equal  only  to  uniform  experience 
in  the  past,  and  from  this  he  will  never,  in  good 
logic,  obtain  a  necessity  which  overthrows  freewill. 
The  most  regular  conduct,  in  the  ideally  moral 
man,  would  still  be  free,  and  his  acts  voluntary. 


I  (ro  on  to  my  third  count— that  Mr.  Spencer 
identifies  moral  goodness  with  pleasure.  Turn  we 
to  the  Dt'ta  of  Ethics.  "  There  is  one  postulate/' 
he  instructs  us,  '^  in  which  pessimists  and  optimists 
a<>"ree.  Both  their  arguments  assume  it  to  be  self- 
evident  that  life  is  good  or  bad,  according  as  it 
does,  or  does  not,  bring  a  surplus  of  agreeable 
feeling."  "  Thus  there  is  no  escape  from  the 
admission  that  in  calling  good  the  conduct  Avhicli 


enhances  life,  and  bad  the  conduct  which  hinders 
or  destroys  it,  and  in  so  implying  that  life  is  a 
blessing  and  not  a  curse,  we  are  inevitably  assert- 
ing that  conduct  is  good  or  bad,  according  as  its 
total  effects  are  pleasurable  or  painful."  *  Now, 
the  doctrine  of  our  new  law-giver  is,  so  far,  per- 
spicuous enough.  It  soon  becomes  much  less  pel- 
lucid. ^^ Sworn  foe  to  mystery,  yet  divinely  dark," 
he  goes  on  to  enlarge  on  the  fact  that  pleasures 
are  ^'incommensurable,"  and  so  lets  in,  if  need  be, 
a  moral  good,  distinct,  in  genere  siio,  by  the  whole 
breadth  of  its  essence,  from  a  mere  ''  agreeable 
feeling."  f  But  at  last  he  openly  declares  that 
he  accepts  ''the  hedonistic  end  considered  in  the 
abstract,"  though  not  the  methods  whereby  current 
hedonism  would  obtain  it,X  which,  as  I  have  al- 
ready had  occasion  to  observe,  is  a  mere  matter  of 
detail.  He  insists  on  "the  truth  that  conduct  is 
considered  by  us  as  good  or  bad,  according  as  its 
aggregate  results,  to  self  or  others,  or  both,  are 
pleasurable  or  painful."  He  holds  that  "  every 
other  proposed  standard  of  conduct  derives  its 
authority  from  this  standard;  "  that  "  whether  per- 
fection of  nature  is  the  assigned  i)roper  end,  or 
virtuousness  of  action,  or  rectitude  of  motive  .... 

^"'  §  10. 

f  Sec  the  passage  beginning  ''  AVcre  pleasures  all  of  one  kind, 
clirrcrlngonly  in  degree,"  in  §  56,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  of  chai).  ix. 
Much  of  his  criticism  of  Eentham  and  the  empirical  Utilitarians 
turns  on  this  distinction. 

G 


1. 


82 


EVOLUTIONABY  ETHICS, 


[CH. 


definition  of  the  perfection,  the  vn^tue,  the  rectitude 
inevitably  brings  us  down  to  happiness  experienced 
in  some  form,  at  some  time,  by  some  person,  as  the 
fundamental  idea."  *  I  ask,  is  happiness  identical 
with  agreeable  feeling  ?  If  so,  we  shall  find  it 
difficult  to  convince  the  thief  that  he  should  not 
appropriate  his  neighbour's  property,  or  the  libertine 
that  he  should  not  corrupt  his  neighbour's  wife. 
If,  however,  it  is  an  ambiguous  Avord,  covering 
^^  right  for  right's  sake,"  no  less  tlian  '^  pleasure 
for  pleasure's  sake,"  one  may  fairly  protest  that 
a  science  should  not  be  built  on  an  equivoque.  In 
any  case,  where  is  the  moral  obligation,  the  ''ought" 
in  all  this  ?  However,  Mr.  Sj^enccr  concludes  that 
"  pleasure  is  as  much  a  necessary  form  of  moral 
intuition  as  space  is  a  necessary  form  of  intellectual 
intuition."  f 

And  now  I  ask  the  reader  to  look  at  the  argu- 
ment upon  which  all  tliis  wordy  edifice  is  founded. 
"  If  virtue  is  primordial  and  independent,"  Mr. 
Spencer  declares  in  his  usual  ex  cathedra  style, 
''no  reason  can  be  given  v/hy  there  should  be  any 
correspondence  between  virtuous  conduct  and  con- 
duct that  is  pleasure-giving  in  its  total  efi'ects  on 
self,  or  others,  or  both ;  and  if  there  is  not  a 
necessary  correspondence,  it  is  conceivable  that  the 
conduct  classed  as  virtuous  should  be  pain -giving 
in  its  total  eff'ects.''  %     He  undertakes  hereupon  to 

*  Ihid.  §  15.  t  IhuL 

J  Ihid.  §  13.     See  tlie  argument  at  lengtli,  j)p.  32-^4. 


III.] 


Mn.   SPENCER'S  METAPHYSICS. 


83 


show  by  the  examples  of  courage  and  chastity,  that 
''  the  conception  of  virtue  cannot  be  separated  from 
the    conception    of   happiness-producing   conduct." 
And  so  he  concludes  that  the  fundamental  idea  is 
happiness.     It  really  would  seem  as  if  Mr.  Spencer, 
absorbed  in  the  attempt  to  make  our  higher  facul- 
ties, by  physical  methods,  out  of  our  lower,  had 
never  had  leisure  to  acquire   even  an  elementary 
knowledge    of   metaphysics.       It  is  imposible,   on 
anv  otlicr  hypothesis,  to  understand  how  he  could 
have    committed    himself   to    such   a  proceeding— 
and  it  is  bv  no  means  unusual  with  him — as  that 
exemplified   in   the    argument  which  we  are   con- 
siderino;.     This  is   what   it  amounts  to.     Because 
two     orders     of     being     are    inseparably    united 
in    our    experience,    let    us    proceed    to    identify 
them,  and  then  deduce  the  higher  from  the  lower, 
as  intellect  from  feeling,  will  from  instinct,  mind 
from  matter,  and    now  virtue  from  happiness.     I 
beg  the   judicious  reader  to   ponder   this   awhile. 
And  then  let  him  go  on  with  me  to  ask,   Can  it 
bo  maintained  that  courage   and  chastity,  judged 
by   this   standard    of    the    expedient,    always   arc 
virtues?      What   shall   be  said,  from  the  strictly 
utilitarian  point  of  view,  of  the  preventive  check, 
of  prostitution,  nay,  of  some  of  the  most  monstrous 
forms  of  unnatural  vice  ?     Can  they  be  condemned 
seinper   uhique   et  ah  omnibus,   which  is  the  case 
with   everything    intrinsically   bad,    according    to 
transcendental    moralists  ?      Is    courage   a   virtue 

g2 


84 


o 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


when  it  moans  certain  death  to  the  individual  and 
poverty  to  his  wife  and   cliiklren  ?     Or  when  lie 
could  put  money  in  his  purse,  and  so  obtain  the 
means  of  much  "  agreeable  feeling","  by  betraying 
or   destroying   his    comrades  ?      "  Yes,"    says  Mr. 
Spencer,   ''because  it   benefits   the   race.''      ^' But 
wliy  should  I  benefit  tlie  race  at  the  expense  of 
my   life — the    only   existence,    as   you    teach   me, 
whicli    I    have  ?  "      '*  Because,    in    so    doing,    you 
gratify  certain   emotions,  tlie  result  of   organised 
past  experience  within  you."     ''  Nay,"   I  Immbly 
answer,  '•'  not  within  me,  for  I  don't  feel  them  in 
tlie   least ;    I   am   a   coward    and   a    scoundrel   by 
nature."     '^  But  if  you  do  not  feel  them  you  ought 
to  feel  them."    ''  How  '  ought '  ?    I  cannot  be  more 
developed  than  I    am   developed.      Do  you  mean 
that  I  am  free  to  feel  them,  in  spite  of  my  coward 
and  scoundrel  nature.,  and  should  exercise  my  free- 
will and  try  to  feel  them  ?  "     '•'  No,  no  ;    freewill 
is,  of  course,  an  objective  and  subjective  illusion  ; 
what  I  mean  is  that  if  you  do  not  feel  them,  your 
character  will  be  bad."     "  What  of  that  ?     Can  I 
help  it?     But  what  do  you  mean  by  '  bad,'  except 
giving  myself  pleasure  at  the  cost  of  another's  pain? 
Well  why  should  I  not  ?     Is  not  life  a  struggle  for 
existence,  where  the  rule  is,  '  devil  take  the  hind- 
most'?"    "  But  evolution  would  go   on  faster  if 
your   conduct   were    good."      This    is    really   too 
much   for  my  unscientific  nature.     "  Evolution  ?  " 
I  reply.     ''What  signifies  to  me  that  'redistribu- 


III.]      MB.   SPENCEB   ON  MOBAL   OBLIGATION. 


85 


\ 


I 


tion  of  matter  and  motion,'  which,  as  you  tell  me, 
«  constitutes  evolution  ?  '  What  do  I  care  that  my 
'  actions,  when  decomposed  into  motions,  must 
exemplify  its  laws  ? '  *  Damn  evolution  and  its 
laws!  Anyhow,  I  cannot  help  doing  Avhat  I  am 
doing,  and  even  if  I  could,  ivhere   is  the  ohlUja- 

tioii  ?  " 

Where   is   the   obligation?      Let    us    see   what 
answer  lilr.  Spencer  is  by  way  of  giving  to  this 
momentous  question.     And  yet,  in  truth  it  is  not 
this  question  which  he  oven  so  much  as  attempts  to 
answer.     The  problem  which  he  considers  is,  "  How 
does  there  arise   the   feeling   of   moral   obligation 
generally  ?  "     (Note  "  ihc  feeliny  of  moral  obliga- 
tion.")    He  replies  at  length,  that  it  arises  like  the 
abstract  notion  of  colour  by  prescinding  from  the 
particular   varieties  of  "  rc-representive  feelings," 
or  "the  mutual  cancelling  of  their  diverse  com- 
ponents."!    This  he  will  have  to  be  its  genesis: 
"  Accumulated  experiences  have  produced  the  con- 
sciousness that  the  guidance  by  feelings  which  refer 
to  remote  and  general  results  is  usually  more  con- 
ducice  to  icclfarc  than  guidance  by  feelings  to  be 
immediately  gratified.     The  idea  of  authoritative- 
ness  has  therefore  como  to  be  connected  with  feel- 

*  "If  that  redistribution  of  matter  oml  motion  constituting 
evolution  goes  on  in  all  aggregates,  its  laws  must  be  fulfilled  m 
the  most  developed  being,  as  in  every  other  tbing  ;  and  lus  ..ct.ons, 
wl.en  decomposed  into  motions,  must  exemplify  its  laws.  -Dataoj 

Ethics,  §  29. 
t  Ibid.  §  46. 


\ 


S6 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


III.J 


MB.  SPENCER  ON  THE  MORAL  SENSE. 


87 


ings  liavino'  those  traits  (remote,  future,  &c.),  the 
implication  being  tliat  the  lower  and  simpler  feel- 
ings are  without  authority."  *  I  must  interpose 
the  question,  Does  experience  Avarrant  this  distinc- 
tion ?  Are  we  not  imder  the  obligation,  sometimes, 
of  acting  quite  irrespective  of  the  future  ?  Take, 
for  example,  Callista,  in  Cardinal  Newman's  touch- 
ing story,  refusing  a  grain  of  incense  to  Jupiter, 
though  uncertain,  not  only  of  the  Christian  heaven, 
but  of  immortality.  Would  Mr.  Spencer  say  she 
was  acting  for  the  future  good  of  the  race  ?  But 
she  was  not  thinking  of  the  race.  Oh,  yes,  she 
was,  unconsciously  ;  he  replies.  In  other  words, 
he  imports  his  theory  into  an  act,  where  no  one 
can  find  a  trace  of  it  by  introspection  or  analysis. 
Surely  this  is  apriorism  run  mad.  But  let  us  turn 
to  Mr.  Spencer's  account  of  the  other  element  in 
''the  feeling  of  moral  obligation,"  coerciveness. 
''  To  the  effects  of  punishment  inflicted  by  law  and 
public  opinion  on  conduct  of  certain  kinds,  Dr.  Bain 
ascribes  the  feeling  of  moral  obligation.  And  I 
agree  with  him  to  the  extent  of  thinking  tliat  by 
them  is  generated  the  sense  of  compidsion  which 
the  consciousness  of  duty  includes,  and  which  the 
w^ord  obligation  indicates."  f  Mr.  Spencer  goes  on 
to  observe  that  in  his  opinion  ''  the  earlier  and 
deeper  element  generated  as  above  described,"  also 
resides  in  it,  ''the  feeling  constituted  by  represen- 
tation of  the  natural  penalties."     Inbred  selfishness 

*  Ibid,     The  italics  are  mine.  |  Ibid, 


I* 


bIus  the  fear  of   the  police  constable :    such  is,  in 
effect,  his  explanation  of  what  we  have  been  wont 
to  call  the  moral  sense !     What  are  we  to  say  to  it? 
PBrhaps  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  say  anything. 
Let  me  content  myself  with  pointing  out  that  in  his 
account  of  ''  the  genesis  of  the  sentiment  of  moral 
obligation"  compared  with  the  abstract  notion  of 
colour,  Mr.  Spencer  gives  us  another  specimen  oi 
tlut  peculiar  method  of  his  in  metaphysics  on  which 
I  lave   already  animadverted.     Colour  in  general, 
nc  doubt,  is  known  by  abstraction  from  colours  in 
particular.     But  moral  obligation  in  general  cannot 
by  any  possibility  be  abstracted  from  a  representa- 
tion of  '^the  natural  consequences "  in  particular, 
foL'  the  very  simple  reason  that  it  is  not  contained 
in  them.     ^aioral"is  one  genus;    '^natural  con- 
sequences,"  meaning   pains  or  pleasures,   another. 
And  in   abstracting,  as  in   syllogizing,  we  are   for- 
lidden  to  pass  from  this  genus  to  that  genus.     This 
u  elementary  metaphysics.     If  the  specific  thmg 
called  morality  is  not  in  the  particular  actions  under 
ihc  form    of  '^authority"   and  "  coerciveness,"   it 
.annot  be  got  from  them  by  abstraction.     If  it  is 
the  -enesis  of  it  remains  to  be  investigated,   and 
cannot  be  explained  by  an  abstraction  which  has 
not   yet   taken   place.      The   sophism    is    glaring. 
From  particular  colours,  colour  in  general.      Cou^ 
cedo     From  particular  pleasures  and  pains,  pleasure 
and  pain  in  general.     By  all  means.     But  from  the 
representation    of    (future)    pleasures    and    pauis, 


M 


■  '^M^^-m-'of'  9^-'*m'  .""■»»- 


88 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


III.] 


MB.   SPENCER'S  ''IDEAL:' 


89 


morality  in  general !  Wliy  not,  then,  sunbeams 
from  cucumbers,  or  the  sense  of  ethical  justice  from 
the  varieties  of  the  triangle  ? 

I  venture  to  think,  tlierefore,  tliat  i\rr.  Spencer  has 
no  sort  of  rational  answer  to  give  to  the  questiai, 
What  is  the  obligation  to  right  conduct  ?  To  slirw 
that  such  conduct  is  likely  to  result  in  ''  agreeaWe 
feeling  "  to  the  individual,  is  not  to  invest  it  with 
an  ethical  obligation.  To  show  tliat  it  is  likely  to 
result  in  ^^  agreeable  feeling"  to  others— tlie  trilie, 
the  race,  posterity — is  not  to  invest  it  witli  in 
ethical  obligation.  These  are  mere  motives,  t'le 
strength  of  wliich  will  vary  indefinitely,  as 
characters  or  circumstances  vary.  They  can  30 
nothing  more  than  motives.  The  desirable  is  one 
thing:  the  obligatory  is  quite  anotlier.  In  jMi-. 
Spencer's  ethics,  obligation  has  no  place — not  even 
that  provisional  and  transitory  place  whicli  l.c 
attempts  to  provide  for  it.*  Nor  is  this  to  be 
wondered  at.  The  trutli  is,  as  the  old  Greei 
proverb  tersely  expresses  it,  ''  To  be  good  is  c//^^ 
ciiltJ''  Duty  implies  self-sacrifice,  and  can  nevei 
come  out  of  selfislniess,  however  sublimated.  On 
Mr.  Spencer's  principles  no  valid  reason  can  be 
given  Avhy  the  individual  is  ever  bound  to  sacrifice 

*  "  Tlie  sense  of  duty  or  moral  obli,i;ation  is  transitory  and  ^vill 

diniinisli  as  fast  as  nioralisation  increases Willi  complete 

adaptation  to  the  social  state  that  element  in  the  moral  conscious- 
ness wliich  is  expressed  by  the  word  oblii,-ation  will  disappear."— 
Data  of  Ethics,  §  4G. 


i 


M 


liimself.  This  difficulty,  and  others  of  a  like  kind, 
have  driven  Mr.  Spencer  to  the  expedient  of 
describing  an  imaginary  ethics,  j)revailing  in  an 
imaginary  society  of  perfect  individuals,  in  whicli 
self-sacrifice  is  not  required.  He  takes  refuge  in 
what  he  calls  ^'  the  ideal."  He  cannot  answer  the 
questions  raised  by  experience,  and  so  he  applies 
himself,  by  the  aid  of  that  same  experience,  to  draw 
out  the  laws  and  customs  of  a  social  organism 
wdiich,  on  his  own  confession,  is  as  purely  unreal  as 
ItouHseau's  '^  state  of  nature."  As  Mr.  Sidgwick 
observes,  ho  ''  proposes  to  deduce  from  fundamental 
])rlnciples  what  conduct  must  be  detrimental  and 
Avhat  must  be  beneficial."  How  can  he  know  what 
must  \y^\  ^SScience"  talks  of  what  is,  and  has 
been.  And  the  perfect  social  organism  neither  is 
]ior  has  been.  In  ex^^erience,  the  happiness  of  all 
has  never  yet  been  reconciled  with  the  haj^piness  of 
each.  How,  again  I  ask,  can  self-sacrifice  be  a 
duty  ?  Yet  it  is  a  duty.  Shall  we  appeal  to  "  the 
nature  of  things  ? "  Mr.  Spencer,  with  all  the 
weight  of  vast  volumes  expended  on  the  subject, 
declares  the  nature  of  things  to  be  unknowable. 
All  he  can  do  is  to  affirm  that  it  may  result  in 
''agreeable  feeling"  for  some,  if  others  undergo 
very  disagreeable  feeling ;  that  in  the  progress  of 
the  car  of  Juggernaut,  these  must  be  crushed,  while 
their  fellows  ride  over  them.  But  that  is  not 
morality  ;  tliat  is  the  struggle  for  existence.  It  is 
impossible  by  definition  that  a  struggle  for  existence 


90 


EVOLUTIONARY  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


111.] 


MB.   SPENCER  AS  PROPHET. 


91 


can  consist  with  nniversal  welfare.  And  I  want  to 
know  what,  accorclinrr  to  the  Spcnccrian  doctrine, 
are  the  Laws  of  conduct  bindin^:^  on  the  less  en- 
dowed individual  in  that  struggle.  Is  he  to 
execute  himself  with  a  smiling  face  ?  Where  is 
the  justice  ?  How  bring  home  to  him  the  obliga- 
tion ? 

In  one  place,  indeed,  Mr.  Spencer  makes  the 
sio^iificant  admission,  ''It  is  not  self-evident,  as 
Bentham  alleges,  that  happiness  is  an  intelligible 
end  while  justice  is  not ;  but,  contrariwise,  ex- 
amination makes  evident  the  greater  intelligibility 
of  justice  as  an  end."  *  Yet  Mr.  Spencer  had  pre- 
viously told  us  that  pleasure  is  to  tlic  intuition  of 
morality  what  space  is  to  intellectual  intuition  !  It 
would  appear,  however,  from  this  passage,  that  the 
relation  between  justice  and  liappiness  is  by  no 
means  clear.  Indeed,  if  it  were  so,  the  same  com- 
putation might  be  made  and  the  same  result 
reached,  whichever  of  them  we  took  for  our 
startino^-Doint.  In  any  case,  it  is  required  by  the 
principle  of  Hedonism,  that  wo  should  pursue 
justice  only  so  far  as  the  facts  will  warrant  us  in 
holding,  that  it  will  produce  more  agreeable  feeling 
than  injustice,  on  the  given  occasion.  And  will 
the  facts  always,  or  indeed  generally,  warrant  us  in 
so  holding  ?  How  comes  it  that  an  opposite  con- 
viction is  so  often  urged  by  some  thoughtful  people 
as  an  argument  for  a  life  to  come,  and  by  others  as 

*  Data  o/EtJdc6j  §  CO. 


■ii 


v*> 


a  defence  of  Pessimism  ?     The  truth  is  that  con- 
sequences are  hidden  from  us.    Mr.  Spencer,  in  effect, 
bids  us  to  go  by  faith,  be   governed  by  emotion, 
and  trust  in  the  extremely  ambiguous  experience  of 
past  ages.     And  this  in  the  name  of  ''science!" 
But  Mr.  Spencer  is  really  well   aware  that    ''  ex- 
perience "  will  not  yield  him  Optimism.     Hence,  as 
I  have  observed,  he  takes  refuge  in  what  he  calls 
"the   ideal."     The  world  accords  so  ill  with  his 
theories—"  Qu'il  a  fallu  s'en  faire  un  autre  et  in- 
ventor."    "  Pleasure,"  he  predicts,  "  will  eventually 
accompany   every   mode    of   action   demanded   by 
social  conditions."*     ^Ylmt—everl/  mode  of  action? 
For  example,  chinmey-sweeping,  scavengering,  and 
listening  to  Parliamentary  eloquence  ?     Yes.     All 
will  be  for  the   best   in   the   best   of   all   possible 
worlds  ;  where  altruism,  not  implying  self-sacrifice, 
will  be  reconciled  with  Mr.  Spencer's  great  funda- 
mental  principle   of    "agreeable   feeling."     Well, 
suppose,  as   obedient  children,  we  humbly  receive 
this  lively  oracle  concerning  the  land  that  is  very 
far  off.     But  until  that  perfect  consummation  and 
bliss,  must  the  virtues  which  do  imply  self-sacrifice 
wait  to  be  justified  in  the  eyes  of  men  and  women 
—a  oToat  multitude  which  no  man  could  number — 
now  called  to  practise   them?     Alas!    their   eyes 
will  have  been  closed,  their  poor  chance  of  some 
scrap    of   earthly  felicity— the   only   felicity— mil 
have    passed    away,    long    ages    before,    on 

*  Data  o/EtJiicSj  §  G7. 


'1  , 


92 


EVOLUTIONABY  ETHICS. 


[cii. 


III.] 


MB.   SPENGEB  AND  EXEEBIENCE. 


93 


Spencer's  own  showing,  his  millennium  arrives. 
Certainly  Jesus  Christ  should  have  delayed  His 
coming  until  then  !  ]3ut  perliaps  the  Crucifixion 
was  only  an  act  of  refined  selfislniess,  bringing  with 
it  the  a^-reeable  feelino-  of  satisfied  emotions.  Has 
not  ^[r.  Spencer  favoured  the  world  with  a  receipt 
for  transmuting  the  most  specious  altruism  into  the 
most  manifest  egoism  ?  * 

In  a  theory  resting  on  happiness  as  its  corner- 
stone, the  question  of  the  value  of  life  is  of  primary 
importance.  Mr.  Spencer  contrives  to  leave  it  out 
altogether.  The  arguments  of  his  Data  of  Ull/ics, 
he  tells  us  at  its  conclusion,  *'  are  valid  only  for 
optimists."  J  Here,  again,  he  is  led  to  discourse 
copiously  on  the  ^4deal"  society  and  tlie  ^^straiglit" 
man ;  inconvenient  questions  about  tlie  real  society 
and  the  crooked  man,  about  crime,  vice,  pain,  dis- 
ease, and  misery  in  general  being  put  by.  He  does 
not  take  tlie  totality  of  experience,  but  merely  so 
much  as  lends  itself  to  his  argument.  How  comes 
it,  I  would  ask,  that  man,  who,  as  we  arc  told  to 
believe,  is  always  as  much  developed  as  he  can  be 
developed,  should  generally  or  always  suffer,  as  if 
he  did  not  correspond  to  his  environment?  He 
does  correspond  to  it;  he  cannot  help  corresponding, 
in  every  stage.  Yet  he  has  to  suffer.  Is  there 
really,  after  all,  no  such  thing   as  the  problem  of 

*  See  the  Appendix  to  tlie  Data  of  Etldcs,  pp.  280-003. 
t  Ibid.  p.  307. 


evil  ?  *  or  has  Mr.  Spencer  solved  it  ?  He  tells  us 
that  self-sacrifice  is  a  transitional  form  of  virtue. 
Be  it  so.  But  are  pain  and  death  also  transitional  ? 
Mr.  Spencer  appeals  to  experience.  But  so  little 
do  his  ethics  agree  with  experience,  that  he  is  com- 
pelled to  invent  a  Laputa  in  which  they  will,  as  he 
hopes,  be  verified.  The  question  for  Hedonists 
being,  Avhether  it  is  worth  while  to  aim  at  such 
pleasures  as  life,  at  present,  affords,  wdiether  mo- 
rality, even  as  they  account  of  it,  brings  an  ade- 
quate reward,  he  answ^ers,  '^I  w^aive  that  point; 
I  am  addressing  none  but  optimists."  But  surely 
this  is  to  put  himself  altogether  out  of  court. 


So  much  must  suffice,  at  all  events  for  our  present 
purpose,  concerning  Mr.  Spencer's  Evolutionary 
Ethics.  We  have  found  that  he  is  committed  to 
the  following  propositions. — It  is  absurd  to  speak 
of  eternal  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  these  being 
purely  human  conceptions,  Avithout  meaning  when 
applied  to  the  nature  of  things.  Virtues  are  founded 
on  expediency ;  not  on  a  direct  calculation  of  wduxt 
is  ex])edient,   but  on  the  registration  of  it  in  the 

What   is   called  moral    obligation  has 


organism. 


*  At  p.  318  of  his  Data  of  Ethics  Mr.  Spencer  glances  at  the 
question  whether  pain  be  the  only  evil.  The  reader  should  note 
that  by  a  dexterous  use  of  the  word '' pain,"  two  quite  incommen- 
surable  evils,  moral  and   physical,   may  be  treated  as  if  they  were 

identical. 


I 


94 


EVOLUTIONAEY  FAIIIC^. 


[en. 


its  authority,  in  2">art,  from  this  instinct,  and,  in 
part,  from  the  action  of  human  law  and  public 
opinion.  All  that  does  happen,  happens  by  that 
redistribution  of  matter  and  motion  which  consti- 
tutes evolution  :  a  process  of  beneficent  necessity, 
the  cause  whereof  is  neither  moral  nor  immoral. 
There  is  no  sucli  thing  as  a  real  human  personality, 
but  only  a  succession  of  states  of  consciousness. 
Freewill  is  a  subjective  and  objective  delusion,  and 
man  having  no  power  of  choosing  the  least  pleasur- 
able of  two  courses,  all  moral  conduct  is  determined 
by  the  surplus  of  agreeable  feeling,  eitlier  in  the 
present  agent  or  in  his  ancestors.  Self-sacrifice  is 
a  higher  egoistic  satisfaction.  Altruism  need  not 
imply  self-sacrifice,  and  in  the  ideal  state  never 
will.  To  this  should  be  added,  in  order  to  make 
the  sketch  complete,  that  in  the  principle  '^  outer 
relations  produce  inner  relations,"  Ave  Imve  ^^  an 
explanation  of  the  advance  from  tlie  simplest  to 
the  most  complex  cognitions  :  "  '*  from  the  simplest 
to  the  most  complex  feelings :  "  *  attraction  and 
repulsion  transform  themselves  into  the  plienomena 
of  egoism  and  altruism,  and  morality  results  from 
the  persistence  of  force. t  Now  Avhat  are  we  to 
say  of  this  system  of  ethics  ?  I  say  that  it  is  a 
house  of  cards,  built  upon  a  foundation  of  sand. 

*  Principles  of  Psychology ,  §  214. 

f  JSec  First  Principles  and  Principles  of  Psychology^  passim. 


'  f 

^ 


CHAPTER  IV. 


RATIONAL   ETHICS. 


It  appears  to  me  that  the  Positivism,  Phenomenism, 
Materialism,  of  Avliicli  I  have  had  so  much  to  say  in 
the  preceding  chapters,  should  be  regarded  as  a  revolt 
against  Peason.  "In  the  beginning  was  the  Logos,'' 
writes  the  author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  popularising 
for  the  Clu'istian  world  the  truth  at  tlic  heart 
of  Plato's  philosoj^hy,  that  the  Divine  Reason  is 
the  ground  of  l)eing.  The  teachers  wliose  doctrines 
I  have  been  criticising,  essay,  like  Faust,  a  different 
reading,  and  for  Reason  would  substitute  Sense: 
''ImAnfang  war  der  Sinn."  It  is  their  primary 
postulate,  tlieir  dominant  dogma,  that  the  thouglits 
and  wills  of  men  are  a  mere  derivate  from,  a  mere 
amalgam  of,  animal  sensations :  the  effect  of 
forces  inherent  in  external  things,  which  are 
ever  changing ;  which,  as  we  are  not  unfrequently 
told,  ^^  are  essentially  constituted  by  the  sum  of 
their  relations."  The  phrase,  I  may  observe  in 
2)assing,  is  a  contradiction  in  terms:  for  how  can 
relation  be  essence  ?  It  is  like  saying  that  the 
outside  is  the  inside.     Relativity  is  the  first  and 


t' 


96 


RATIONAL  ETHICS, 


[CH. 


IV.] 


WHAT  ''REASON''  MEANS. 


97 


last  word  of  tlic  ncAv  philosophy  :  the  correlation 
of  things  and  forces,  in  their  varying  moods,  its 
one  theme.  Tlie  Absolute  it  denies,  or  relegates 
to  the  domain  of  the  unknown  and  unknowable. 
Fixed  standard  of  good,  amid  the  flux  and  reflux 
of  phenomena,  it  has  none  to  offer.  But  the  old 
pliilosoj^hy,  that  has  hitlierto  informed  the 
civilisation  of  the  Western  AVorld,  reposes  upon 
Ifeason,  which  is  essentially  irrelative.  It  is  rooted 
and  c^rounded  in  the  Absolute :  the  Absolute 
without  us  and  the  Absolute  wdthin  us.  It  bids 
us  look  into  our  own  breasts,  and  seek  there 
the  source  of  our  conceptions,  our  decisions.  This 
is,  if  I  may  so  speak,  a  fundamental  idea  of  Chris- 
tianity, underlying  its  dogmatic  theology.  13 ut  it 
is  not  necessarily  bound  up  with  Christian  dogma. 
In  these  latter  days  one  of  its  most  effective  preachers 
lias  certainly  been  Kant.  It  was  his  '*  high  em- 
prize  "  to  overthroAV  the  negative  psychology  of 
the  sensualistic  school,  wliich  he  found  predomi- 
nant, by"  showing  that  the  human  intellect  possesses 
its  own  organisation,  innate,  independent  of  ex- 
perience, and  necessary  even  for  the  formation  of 
thought :  to  exhibit  suljstance,  causalit}',  law,  as 
intuitive  conceptions  of  the  mind,  and  to  point  us, 
for  their  exj^lanation,  not  to  the  perceptions  of 
Sense,  but  to  the  judgments  of  Reason. 


To  Iteason,  then,  must  we  resort  for  the  true  basis 


of  ethics.      And  by  Reason  I  understand — in  Cole- 
ridge's happy  words — 'Hhe  poAver  of  universal  and 
necessary    convictions ;   the    source    and  substance 
of    truths    above    sense,    and    having    their    evi- 
dence   in    themselves."        In    opposition     to    the 
teachers  whose  views  we  have    been  considering, 
I    hold    that    there    is    a    higher    law    than    that 
which  finds  expression  in  the  sterile  formulas  of 
Materialism,  a    law    which    is   not   evolved    from 
physical  instincts,  from    the   force   of   habit,  from 
imitation,    from    human   respect,    from    selfishness, 
personal  or  tribal,  called,  in  the  slipshod  jargon  of 
the  day,  "utility;"  a  law  which,  as  Aquinas  writes, 
is  immutable  truth,  wherein  every  man  shares  who 
comes  into  the  world.    That  old  doctrine  of  Natural 
Right,  now  so  contemptuously  rejected  as  a  chimera 
of  the  schools  or  an  idol  of  the  den,  I  hold  to  be  a 
sound  doctrine,  and  the   only  sure  foundation   of 
civilised  life.     I  believe  in  the  existence  of  justice 
anterior  to  all  experience,  and  wholly  independent 
of  empirical  deductions.     I  am  persuaded  that  the 
moral  law  exists  apart  from  the  ephemeral  race  of 
man;    that    it    existed  before  that  race   appeared 
and  will  exist    after  that  race  has  vanished   from 
the    earth ;     that  it   is    absolutely    supreme   over 
us,    as   over   the   totality  of  being;    and  that  we 
possess  an  organon  whereby  we  may  apprehend  it. 
I  sliall  proceed  to  give  my  reasons  for  this  faith 
that  is  in  me,  and  Avithout  which  human  life  would 
lose  for  me  its  dignity  and  value.     In  what  I  am 

H 


98 


BATIONAL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


about  to  write  I  prescind  entirely  from  all  theolo- 
gical theories  and  religious  symbols.  I  admit,  or 
rather  I  insist,  that  morality  is  in  a  true  sense 
independent.  I  mean  this,  that  our  intuitions  of 
right  and  wrong  are  first  principles  anterior  to  all 
systems,  just  as  are  the  intuitions  of  existence  and 
of  number.  Now  morality  is  a  practical  science. 
Its  subject  is  man  as  he  lives,  moves,  and  has  his 
being  in  the  well-nigh  infinite  complexity  of  social 
relations.  Its  conclusions  must,  therefore,  have  to 
do  with  the  concrete,  the  conditioned,  for  it  is  the 
science  of  human  life.  But  then  it  views  man 
transcendentally — not  only  going  beyond  the  facts 
of  sense,  by  means  of  our  imaginative  faculty,  but 
grasping  that  spiritual  substance  which,  cannot  fall 
within  the  range  of  physics.  It  is  only  in  the  light 
of  the  ideal  atmosphere  which  envelops  and  pene- 
trates our  intellect,  and  which  is  the  very  breath 
of  life  to  our  spiritual  being,  that  we  can  discern 
ethical  principles.  I  very  confidently  aflirm  that 
the  progress  of  the  physical  sciences  has  not  in  the 
least  changed  the  moral  conditions  of  human  ex- 
istence. And  Mr.  Iluxley  must  pardon  me  if  I  sa} , 
that   when    he   tells    us    ''  Natural  knowledge,    in 


desiring  to  ascertain  the  laws  of  comfort,  has  been 
driven  to  discover  those  of  conduct,"  he  does  but 
darken  counsel  by  words  without  knowledge.  It 
would  be  as  reasonable  to  assert,  that  ethical 
knowledge  affords  an  explanation  of  the  common 
pump.  Ethics  are  concerned  with  the  actions  of 
men  :  physics  with  the  properties  of  matter. 


lY.] 


^l  UNIVEBSAL  METAPHYSIG. 


99 


There  is   this   essential  difference   between  the 
natural  and  the  moral  order,  that  physical   science 
deals  with  facts,  and  the  generalisations   obtained 
from   them    by  means    of   the    principle— assumed 
but  never  proved — of    the  uniformity  of   nature; 
while  ethical  science  starts  from  self-evident  intui- 
tions and  categorical  assertions.    Thus  its  principles 
are,  in  the  strictest  sense,  transcendental.     Not  to 
experience  does  the  ethical  "  ought*'  appeal,  but  to 
the  reason  of  things.      It  is  founded  not  upon   the 
physical,    but    upon    the    metaphysical ;    not    the 
relative,    but   upon   the    absolute;    not    upon    the 
phenomenal,  but  upon  the  noumenal.     Not  among 
the  beo'ixarly  elements  of  the  external  universe,  but 
in  the  inner  world  of   consciousness,  of  volition,  of 
finality,  must  we  seek  the  ultimate  bases  of  right 
and  duty.      Yes;    in  its    own    sphere  morality  is 
autonomous.     It  is  absolutely  independent  both  of 
religious  systems  and  of  the  physical  sciences.      It 
is  a  branch  of  what  Leibnitz  called  perennis  qucedam 
2)hiloso2)hia—a    universal    metaphysic    which    en- 
dures though  ^^  creeds  pass,  rites  change,  no  altar 
standeth  sure  "  ;    though  steam  and  electricity  and 
dynamite  revolutionise  the  external  conditions  of 
human  life.     That  philosophy— whether  we  term  it 
natural,   or  intuitive,   or    traditional— embodies    a 
number  of  first  principles  which  are  part  of  our 
intellectual  heritage,  and  of  which  we  may  say,  in 
the  words  of  the  tragic  poet,   "  They  are  from  ever- 
lasting,   and    no    man    knows    their    birthplace." 
Among  tiiese  are  the  ideas  and  principles  which 

h2 


100 


BATIONAL  ETHICS. 


[CH, 


are  creative  of  ethics.  The  savage  who  docs  not  in 
some  way  disthigulsh  between  right  and  wrong  is 
not  extant ;  and  if  he  Avere,  he  Avould  not  be  man, 
but  something  lower.  There  is,  there  can  be,  no 
new  morality  in  the  sense  of  new  original  principles. 
The  conception  of  moral  riglit  was  not  absent  from 
mankind  before  biology  became  a  science,  or  until 
the  lioyal  Society  was  founded;  neitlier  by  any 
process  of  chemistry  or  mechanics  can  it  be  reduced 
to  the  attractions  or  repulsions  of  matter,  or  its 
presence  detected  by  instruments,  however  fine. 
The  rule  of  ethics  is  the  natural  and  permanent 
revelation  of  reason.  Let  us  see  what  that  reve- 
lation is. 

What  is  the  most  certain  portion  of  all  my  know- 
ledge ?      Surely  it    is   this,   that    I  — the    thiiddng 
beinof — exist.      In  strictness  all  mv  knowledge  is 
subjective.     Of  what  is  external  to  myself  I  know 
nothing  except  its  potentiality.      My  knowledge  of 
it,   directly  or   indirectly,  is  dependent  upon   my 
sensations,    which    tell    me,    to    some    extent,   its 
qualities,  but  do  not   tell  me  what  it  really  is,  or 
whether  it  is  anvthin^,  if  abstraction  be  made  of  its 
qualities.     The  forms  of  intuition  and  of  rational 
induction  sup2)ly  a  criterion  of  certitude  infinitely 
transcending  any  afforded  by  what  it  is  the  custom 
to  call  "  positive  and  verifiable  experience."     Now, 
as  I   have   already  insisted,  the  presence   in   our 
consciousness    of    the   first   principles  of   morality 


) 


,v.]  THE  SENSE  OF  MORAL  OBLIGATION.  101 

is  an  indubitable  fact.   As  surely  as  I  am^onsclous  of 
mys:clf,_so,m\J-££aisdQMEraordQW 
is,"  writes  Turgot,  "an  instinct,  a  sentiment  of  what 
is' good  and  right,  that  Providence  has  engraven  on 
all  hearts,  which  is  anterior  to  formal  ratiocination, 
and  which  leads  the  philosophers  of  all  ages  back 
to  the   same   fundamental  principles  of  ethics."  * 
I  am  quite  willing  to   leave    "  Providence " —the 
divine  concept— out  of  the  question  here.     I  wish, 
just   now,  to  go  merely  by  the   facts   of  human 
nature.      And  one  of  these  facts— a  primary  one 
—is,  I  say,  the  sense  of  ethical  obligation.   Aristotle 
considered  it  the  special  attribute  of  man  that  he 
is  a  moral  being,  enjoying  perception  of  good  and 
evil,  justice  and  injustice,  and  the  like.     It  is  the 
doctrine  of   the  Folitics  that  this  marks  man  off 
from  the  rest  of  animate  existence.     We  know  now 
more  than  that  great  master  knew  concerning  the 
creatures   infeiior   to  man  in  the  scale  of  being. 
For  myself,  I  cannot  deny  the  rudiments,  at  least, 
of  an  ethical  sense  to  some  of  them,  the  raw  mate- 
rial of  the  morality  which  is  to  be.     I  believe  with 
Professor  Huxley— and  it  is  always  a  pleasure  to 
agree  with  him— that  "  even  the  highest  faculties 
of  feeling  ....  begin  to  germinate  in  lower  forms 
of  life."     Nature  appears  to  me  a  vast  hierarchy  of 
being,  in  which  one  order  passes  into  another  by 
gradations  so  fine  as  to  require  "larger,  other  eyes 
than   ours"    to   trace   them.      Without   thought— 

*  (Euvres,  vol.  ii.  p.  f>02. 


I 


102 


RATIONAL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


IV.] 


THING,  INDIVIDUAL,  PERSON. 


103 


JReason — in  tlic  ground  of  things,  this  wide  si^ere 
of  life  is  unintelligible  to  me.  I  hold  with  Kant 
that  mere  senseless  mechanism  is  quite  insufficient 
to  explain  organic  products.*  AVith  him,  I  regard 
the  entire  history  of  organic  life  as  a  process  of 
development,  brouglit  about  by  the  action  of  imma- 
terial causes  upon  the  forces  and  properties  of 
matter.  Eut  unquestionably  it  is  of  man  only,  that 
we  can  predicate  consciousness  in  the  full  sense  of 
the  term.  ^^  Nature,"  said  Schelling,  ^^  sleeps  in 
the  plant,  dreams  in  the  animal,  wakes  in  the  man." 
Everywhere,  throughout  her  vast  domain,  wo  seem 
to  see  the  striving  after  individuality.  Everywhere 
there  is,  in  some  sort,  a  principle  of  unity,  be'  it  in 
the  atom  of  the  inorganic  world,  the  cell  in  tlie 
lower  vegetable  forms,  or  the  whole  organism  in 
tlie  higher.  The  plant  has  life  in  itself.  Is  it  con- 
scious of  that  life  ?  "  For  'tis  my  faith  that  every 
flower  enjoys  tlie  air  it  breathes."  So  Wordsworth, 
soaring  in  the  high  reason  of  his  fancies.  Who 
shall  say  that  he  is  wrong?  In  the  animal 
world  we  find  a  further  development  of  individual- 
ity. The  action  of  mechanism  becomes  less  and 
less.     Here  is  motion,  self-originated  ;   here  is  some 

*  So  Aristotle :  "  He  wlio  assorted  that  tliere  is  in  nature 
as  in  animals,  an  intelligence  which  is  the  cause  of  tlie  universe 
and  of  all  order,  seems  a  sober  man  wlien  we  think  of  the 
ill-advised  utterances  of  his  predecessors.  Now  we  know,  clearly, 
that  Anaxagoras  first  touched  upon  these  views.''  Met.  I. 
c.  iii. 


♦^ 


clcgreo  of  spontaneity ;    here  is  consciousness,  im- 
perfect, indeed,  but  extending  we  know  not  how 
far  ;  here  are  psychical  faculties  well  marked,  how- 
ever scantily  developed ;  here  is  a  certain  account- 
ableness.    But  in  man  we  have  more.    Of  him  only, 
I  say,  can  consciousness  be  predicated  in  the  proper 
meaning-  of   the   Avord.      He   alone  can   recognise 
and  will  the  creative  thought  of   liis  being.     He 
alone  is  free,  for  he  exists  for  himself  and  not  for 
another.*     He  alone  is  an  individual  in  the  com- 
pletest  sense.     He  is  more  ;  he  is  a  person.    Thing, 
individual,  person— (?ks,  suppositum,  hypostasis,  as 
the  scholastics  have  it— these  are  the  three  degrees 
in  the  dynamic  evolution  of  being.    At  what  period 
in   history  the   personality  of   man   emerged,   we 
know  not.     But   assuredly,  whenever   the   period 
was,  his  personality  was  due  to  the  growth,  side  by 
side   with   sensuous   and   instinctive    impulses,   of 
another   very   different   faculty,   which   gave   him 
quite  other  grounds  of  action.     That  was  the  dawn 
of  reason,  which  rendered  man's  liberty  possible, 
which  enabled  him  to  become  poteus  sm,  master  of 
his  fate,  by  emancipating  him  from  the  yoke  of 
instinct  as  no  other  animal  is  emancipated.     Free 
volition_implics  the  powCTOJ  choosin£J_coi£seof_ 
action,  without  regard  to  the  weight  of  motives,  tor 

*  I  l,..ve  before  my  mind  the  definition   of  freedom  given   by 
Aristotle    iu   tlie   Melaph;,dcs ;  aeiOepo.  a.0pa,7ros  o  avrov  .ye.a 


I 


104 


RATIONAL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


IV.] 


THE  MORAL  LAW. 


105 


or  against   such    course.*     It   may  be  truly  called 
niaivs    distinctive    endowment,  although   the   fore- 
shadowings,  the  presentiments,  of  it— /xi/xT^/xara  r^? 
dp0po)7TLPrj<;  ^oji79— may  be  found  in  the  lower  animals. 
It  is  the  essence,  the  very  form  of  his  personality:  for 
it  is  the  condition  of  the  realisation  of  his  ethical  end, 
in  virtue  of  which  he  is  a  Person.     It  is  the  basis 
as  of  ethics,  so  of  jurisprudence  and   of  politics— 
wdiich  are  in  truth  mere  branches  of  ethics— accord- 
ing to  the  pregnant  dictum  of  Ilegel,   "  The  exist- 
ence of  Free  Will  is  Right."     It  is  to  personality 
that  rights  attach.     It  is  to  personality  that  duties 
attach.     Both  spring   up  from    the   same  essential 
ground  of    human   nature.     You  cannot    predicate 
duties  where  you  cannot  predicate  rights.     They 
are  different  aspects  of    one  and  the  same  thing. 
"  From   each   duty  issues  a  right,  the  right  to  be 
allowed   to   perform    the  duty,   witli   precisely  the 
same  logical  force  as  from    necessity  issues   possi- 
bility.''f       Duty  is   the    etiiically    necessary:    the 
absolute  and  unconditioned  claim  of  Right  \m  mc. 
Morality  consists   in    deliberate  self-submission  to 
that  necessity:  in  voluntary  obedience  to  that  claim. 
The  power  of  willing  right  as  riglit,  and  the  con- 

*  It  is  a  commonplace  of  tlio  schools,  --  Libcrum  arbitriiim 
liabetiir,  quando  positis  ad  agondiim  ivqnisitis,  potest  quis  ao-ere 
vel  noil  agere."  There  are  ea>es  of  non-physical  necessity,  e  q  of 
a  sino-le  determinino-  motive,  of  a  spiritual  instinct,  of  a  knowledge 
exlnbiting  the  object  as  omni  c.c  parte  bonum,  where  freewill  docs 
not  exist. 

t  Trendelenburg,  Naturrecht  auf  dem  Grunde  der  Ethii;  §  45. 


V 


sciousness  that  he  ought  to  will  it,  are  primarj^ 
facts  of  man's  nature.  And  this  free  volition, 
determined  by  the  idea  of  ^^^ood,  is  in  itself  a 
revelation  of  the  moral  law.  The  autonomy 
of  the  will  is  the  object  of  that  ^'lex  perfecta 
libertatis."  '^  Tlie  ethical  faculty,"  as  we  read 
in  the  Critique  of  Fiire  Heason,  ''  emmciates 
laws  which  are  imperative  or  objective  laws  of 
freedom." 

When,  then,  we  speak  of  the  moral  law,  we  mean 
that  rule  of  action  which  necessarilv  arises  out  of 
the  relation  of  Reason  to  itself  as  its  own  end. 
Necessity  is  its  primary  note.  And  it  is  a  necessity 
of  a  qiute  unique  kind.  The  word  is  sometimes  mis- 
applied to  the  regular  sequence  or  uniform  move- 
ments of  matter,  to  the  simultaneity  of  sensible 
events.  It  is  rightly  used  of  mathematical  relations. 
But  the  mathematically  necessary  is  one  thing ;  the 
morally  necessary  is  quite  another.  The  special 
characteristic  of  the  morally  necessary  is  denoted 
by  the  word  '^  ought."  It  is  nonsense  to  say  tliat 
two  sides  of  a  triangle  ought  to  be  greater  than  the 
third,  or  that  two  and  two  ought  to  make  four. 
Tlie  necessity  which  the  word  ^' ought"  expresses  is 
derived  from  a  law  of  ideal  relation,  obligatory  on 
our  wills.  Nor  can  you  derive  that  necessity  from 
self-love,  or  prudence,  or  interest,  tribal  or  personal. 
It  is  absurd  to  say  that  a  man  ought  to  seek 
'^agreeable  feeling."  Expedience,  utility  can  but 
counsel.      The   moral  law   commands.      It  claims 


lOG 


RATIONAL  ETHICS. 


fCH. 


j>bodIence  as  a  thing  absolutely  good,  as  an  end  in 
itself;  and  by  tlmFfcry  claiTiV'n-^fixIfiBrfs  itself  aT 
transcending  the  range  of  lunnan  experience,  as 
universal,  eternal,  supreme  over  ^^  all  thinkino- 
tilings,  the  objects  of  all  thought."  Of  this  law  the 
organon  is  the  Practical  Pieason,  the  Moral  Un- 
derstanding, Conscience.  ^^Law  rational,"  says 
Hooker,  ''  which  men  commonly  use  to  call  the  law 
of  nature,  comprehendeth  all  those  things  which 
men  by  the  light  of  their  natural  understanding 
evidently  know,  or  at  leastwise  mav  know,  to 
be  beseeming  or  unbeseeming,  virtuous  or  vicious, 
good  or  evil  for  them  to  do.''  "  The  several  grand 
mandates,  which  being  imposed  by  the  under- 
standing faculty  of  the  mind,  must  be  obeyed  by 
the  will  of  man,"  "  are  such  that  it  is  not  easy 
to  find  men  ignorant  of  them."*  Are  we  here  met 
with  an  objection  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  moral 
judgments,  Avhich  have  obtained  among  men,  are 
diverse  and  irreconcilable  ?  The  objection  is  not 
a  novel  one,  and,  as  Hooker  goes  on  to  observe,  it 
was  sufficiently  met  by  St.  Augustine  a  thousand 
years  ago.  ''  Do  as  thou  wouldst  be  done  to,  is  a 
sentence  Avhich  all  nations  under  heaven  are  agreed 
upon;"  and  here  is  the  sufficient  germ  of  a  con^plete 
ethical  code.  The  sense  of  duty  is  a  form  of  the 
mind  itself,  although  it  may  be  said  to  exist  as  ''  a 

""  Ecclesiastical  PoliUj,  B.ok  I.  c.  8.  Compare  Aquinas- 
''Lex  naturalis  nihil  aliiul  est  <,"ani  particlpatio  legis  externa^  in 
rationali  creatura.''     Summa^  1,  2^  q.  91,  art.  2. 


IV.] 


CONSCIENCE, 


107 


blank  formula,"  which   is  filled   up    in    a  variety 
of  ways.     ''  The  altruistic  instinct,"  as  the  barbar- 
ous jargon  of  the  day  calls  it,  is  as  much  a  fact  of 
human    nature    as    ^^  the    egoistic   instinct."      The 
sense    of    duty   is   universal ;    it    is    an    essential 
attribute  of  our  nature,  inseparable  from  tlie  con- 
sciousness  of   self    and   non-self;    not   a  complete 
revelation,  but  the  revelation  of  an  idea,  bound  to 
develop  according  to  its  laws,  like  the  idea,  say,. of 
geometry.       The    ethical   ignorance    of   barbarous 
tribes  is  no  more  an  argument  against  the  moral 
law,  than  their  ignorance  of  the  complex  and  re- 
condite properties  of  lines  and  figures  is  an  argu- 
ment against  geometrical  law.     It  is  the  function 
of  the  intellect,  here  as  elsewhere,  to  evolve  abstract 
truths   from    the    complex    and    chaotic    mass    of 
appearances   and   events,    and   to    clothe   them  in 
formulas  which  shall  serve  as  current  coin.     That 
very     word,     ^^  conscience,"     by    which    we    now 
designate    consciousness     considered    as    a    moral 
judge,  is    of   comparatively   late   origin.      It  was 
unknown   to   the   writers    of   the   Hebrew   Sacred 
Books.*     They    speak    of    ^Mieart"    instead.      It 
does   not    occur    in    the    Gospels,    except    in   the 
history  of  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  which  the 
most  authoritative  critics  of  our  own  day— whether 
rightly  or  wrongly,  I  do  not  undertake  to  say — 
regard    as    an   interpolation.       It    was    only    after 

-  It  is  found  in  the  Booh  of  Wisdom  (ch.  xvii.),  as  might,  of 
course,  be  expected. 


108 


EAT  ION AL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


IV.] 


JUSTICE. 


109 


nascent  Chnstianitj  appealed  to  the  Gentiles,  and 
to  tlie  Jews  scattered  abroad,  tliat  the  word  was,  so 
to  speak,  naturalised  in  it.     And  tlien  it  was  a  new 
word,  in  the  Tlellem'c  world  :  it  seems  not  to  have 
come  into  use  until   after  the  Peloponnesian   War. 
So  much  as  to  the  history  of  the  term  by  which  we 
commonly  describe  the  subjective  organ  of  ethical 
knowledge.     Mr.  Spencer  tells    us  that   both   that 
subjective  organ  and  the  moral  law^  are  in  a  per- 
manent  state    of    becoming.     I   do   not    doubt— I 
shall    indeed    have    occasion,    presentlj-,    to   insist 
—that    our    insight    into    the    moral    law    grows 
deeper   in    successive    ages.     But    that    does    not 
deprive    either   conscience,    or   the   moral  law,   of 
their  imperative  character  for  each  particular 'act 
recognised  by  me   as   obligatory,  any   more   than 
it    implies    the     destruction     of     ethical     liberty, 
properly    understood.       AVhat    I    discern    as    my 
duty  is   binding   upon   me,   hlc  et  nunc,   whether 
my  mental  vision  be  true  or  false.     The  point  upon 
which  my  conscience   never   varies  is,    that    duty 
exists.     It  is  in  vain  for  Montaigne  to  assert,  ^'Te~ 
lois  de  la  conscience,  que  nous  disons  naitro  de  la 
nature,  naissent  de  la  coutume  "  :   ''  les  regies  de  la 
justice   ne  sont  qu'une  mer   flottante    d\)pinions." 
Montaigne  confounds  the  idea  of  duty  in  general 
with  men's  notions  of  their  i)articular  duties.'' 

In  that  record  of  man's  action  which  we  call 
history,  Uight  and  AVrong  are  the  most  important 
words.     Human  progress  means,  before  all  thino-s, 


the  education  of  conscience :  the  widening  of  the 
circle   of   ethical   obligation;    the    deeper    appre- 
hension   of    the    moral   law,    that    is    of    justice, 
wherein,  according  to  the  fine  verse  of  the  Hellenic 
poet,   adopted   by    Aristotle,    ''  lies   the   whole    of 
virtue's  sum."     And  justice,  as  Ulpian,  quoted  in 
the  first  chapter  of  this  volume,  defines  it,  is  "-  the 
constant  and  perpetual  will  to  render  to  each  man 
his  right."      This  "right,"    it   is  sometimes    said, 
arises  from  the  primordial  idea   of   the  person  in 
himself.     It  is  well  said;  but  the  statement  requires 
to  be  guarded,  for  only  in  society  is  personality 
realised  ;   ''  Unus  homo,  nullus  homo."     Hence  that 
other  dictum,  which  must  be  received  with  even 
greater  caution,  that  right  is  the  offspring  of  civili- 
sation.    True  it  is  that  right  is  not  the  attribute  of 
man  in  Rousseau's  ^^  state   of   nature."     The  pre- 
civilised  epoch  to  which  he  turned  for  his  Utopia  was, 
in  fact,  an  epoch  of  the  reign  of  chaotic  violence,  of 
ferocious  cruelty,  of  hideous  cannibalism,  of  dirt  un- 
speakable, of  sexual  promiscuity,  of  lying  and  hy- 
pocrisy.    And  such  is  the  state  Avhich  his  doctrines 
tend  to  bring  back.     Unquestionably,  it  is  society 
alone  that  gives  validity  to  right,  for  man  is,  in  Aris- 
totle's phrase,  "  a  political  animal."     If  we  follow 
the  historical  method  only,  we  must  pronounce  the 
birth-place  of  right  to  have  been  the  family,  from 
which  civil  polity  has  been  developed.     But  if  we 
view   the   matter   ideally,    we  must   say   that  the 
experience  of  the  race  is  here  merely  an  occasion, 


^ 


110 


UATIOXAL  KTHICS. 


[CH. 


not  a  cause ;  It  docs  not  create,  it  merely  reveals 
right.     The  social  organism  exhibits  tliat  which  lies 
in   the  nature  of  man,   deep  down  in  the   inmost 
recesses  of  his  being,  but  which  could  never  liave 
come  out  of  liim  in  isolation.     The  idea  of  right 
unfolds  itself  in  histor}-  as  the  vivifying  i)rinciple 
of  those  public  ordinances  and  political  institutions, 
whereby  we  live  as  civilised  men  ;  the  justification' 
of  the  common  might,  which,  without  it,  would  be 
mere   brute  force.      And   as  that  idea  is   ever-in- 
creasingly   realised    in    the    ethical   fellowsliip    of 
successive  generations,  as  the   moral   tone  of   the 
social  organism  rises,  so  do  individual  conceptions 
of  right  become  clearer  and  more  adequate.     For 
man  is  not  only  "  a  political  animal."     He  is  also 
a  historical  animal.     And  tliis  it  is,  even  more  than 
the  Aristotelian  criterion,  which  marks  him  off  from 
the  rest  of  sentient  existence.      Consider,   on  the 
one    hand,     the     savage     warrior     torturing    Ids 
captive    enemy,    his  untutored   mind    not   si^spcct- 
ingthathc  is  acting  um-ighteously ;    and   on   tlie 
other,  contemplate  John  Howard  on  his  "circum- 
navigation of  charity,"  not  counting  his  life  dear 
so  that  he  may  redress  injustice  done  to  criminals. 
Thus  has  the  idea  of  right  grown  in  the  human 
conscience.      But  an    idea,    in  tlie   true   sense   of 
the    word,    it    is.      The    great    legists    to    whom 
wo    owe    the    majestic    fabric    of    Roman    juris- 
prudence knew  this  well.     Hence  their  emphatic 
recognition   of    the   transcendental   foundation    of 


IV.] 


THE  UNIVERSALITY  OE  lUGIIT. 


Ill 


private   right.      It    was   an  expression  of   the  au- 
gust   doctrine,    which   they    had  learnt   from    the 
philosophers  of  the    Porch,    that   universal   reason 
p-overns  the  world  ;  that  the  lives  of  men  should  be 
regulated  by  that   supreme  order  which  is  justice 
in  the  soul,   beauty  in  the  body,  and  harmony  in 
the  spheres.     But  it  is  to  the  Founder  of  Christianity 
and  the  doctors  of  His  religion— conspicuous  among 
tliem  the  masters  of  the  medieval  school— that  the 
world  owes  the   clearest,  tlie  most  prevailing,  the 
most    cogent   teaching    as   to    the    universality   of 
ri^^ht  and   the    solidarity   of   mankind.     Now  this 
characteristic   of    universality  is  an  essential   note 
of   ethics.      The  theory   of    the    moral   law   must 
be  founded    on   reason.     To    make    of   it   a  mere 
deduction  from  experience  is  to  perform  a  mortal 
operation  upon  it,  is  to  reduce  right  and  wrong  to  a 
question  of  temperament,  of  environment,  of  cuisine, 
of  latitude  and  longitude.    Hence  the  precept  which 
Kant   lays    down   for    our    conduct,    the    rule    by 
wdiich   he  bids  us  try  and   test  its  ethical  worth : 
Act  so  that  the  motive  of  thy  will  may  always  be 
equally  valid  as  a  principle  of  universal  legislation. 
I  do  not  say  that  this  maxim  is  alone  adequate  as 
the  fundamental  thought  of  ethics.     It  may  be  open 
to  the  criticism  tliat  it  is  rather  the  uniform  view  of 
a  criterion  than  the  pregnant  principle  of  morals. 
But,  at  all  events,  in  its  recognition  of  universality 
itbuilds  upon  the  everlasting  rock. 
What  a  change  to  turn  from  the  ampler  a3ther, 


112 


P.ATIOXAL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


the  diviner  air  of  this  spacious  tliouglit,  to  i\\o 
stifling-  empirical  doctrine  prevailing  in  our  own 
countiy,  at  which  Ave  glanced  in  the  second  chapter. 
The  belief  that  human  law  can  be  the  ultimate- 
ground  and  the  only  measure  of  right  is,  indeed, 
upon  the  face  of  it,  so  untenable,  that  one  is  lost 
in  wonder  liow  it  could  possibly  have  obtained 
such  credit.  All  rights  the  creation  of  positive  law! 
The  right  to  existence,  for  example  ?  Or  the  right 
of  self-defence  ?  Or  the  right  to  use,  to  the  best 
advantage,  one's  moral  and  spiritual  faculties  ? 
Imagine  a  number  of  settlers,  in  a  new  country, 
before  they  have  had  time  to  frame  a  polity.  Are 
they  then  devoid  of  these  riglits?  Surely  it  is 
sufficient  to  ask  such  a  question.  But  we  are  told 
that  human  rights  arise  from  a  contract,  express  or 
implied.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  society  is  not  founded 
upon  convention,  although  I  allow  a  virtual  compact 
whence  is  derived  the  binding  obligation  of  laws 
regarding  things  in  themselves  indifferent.  But  if 
the  rights  which  I  have  instanced  exist  at  all — and 
in  practice  everyone  admits  their  existence — they 
possess  universal  validity.  A  contract  may  or  may 
not  be.  It  is  contingent.  But  these  rights  must 
be.  They  are  absolute.  Hight  is  founded  on 
necessity.  What  is  necessary  and  immutable 
cannot  proceed  from  the  accidental  and  changeable. 
And  rights  are>subjective  expressions  of  Eight.  To 
me  it  is  evident,  upon  the  testimony  of  reason  itself, 
that   there   are  certain  rights  of  man  which   exist 


IV.] 


THE  LAW  OF  NATUIIE. 


113 


anterior  to  and  independently  of  positive  law, 
which  do  not  arise  ex  contractu  or  quasi  ex  con- 
tractu., and  which  may  properly  be  called  natural, 
because  they  originate  in  the  nature  of  things.  And 
here  let  me  express  my  regret  at  the  scanty  and 
uncertain  treatment  which  this  subject  received 
from  one  of  the  most  accomplished  of  English 
jurisprudents.  In  his  Ancient  Law.,  Sir  Henry 
Maine  tells  us  that  '^  the  law  of  Nature"  as  the 
Roman  jurisconsults  conceived  of  it,  ^'confused  the 
past  and  the  present;"  that  '' logically  it  implied 
a  state  of  nature  which  once  had  been  regulated  by 
natural  law,"  while  ''for  all  practical  purposes  it 
was  something  belonging  to  the  present,  something 
entwined  with  existing  institutions,  something 
which  could  be  distinguished  from  them  by  a 
competent  observer."  The  law  of  nature,  as  I 
understand  it,  and  as  I  believe  the  Roman  juris- 
consults, following  the  great  Hellenic  philosophers 
from  Aristotle  downwards,  understood  it,  belongs 
to  the  domain  of  the  ideal.  It  is  the  type  to 
which  positive  law  should  endeavour,  as  far  as 
maj^  be,  to  apj^roximate ;  but  the  approximation 
must  vary  indefinitely  according  to  social  condi- 
tions. I  am  well  aware  that  what  is  noumenally 
true  may  be  phenomenally  false ;  that  in  the  life  of 
men,  principles  must  be  viewed  not  in  the  abstract 
but  in  the  concrete,  as  embodied  in  actual  facts  and 
institutions.  I  quite  agree  with  Sir  Henry  Maine 
that,  in  jurisprudence  we  must  rigorously  adhere  to 


1/ 


114 


AM  77  O.V.I  7.  K  Till  CS. 


[CH. 


the  historical  method.     But  it  also  appears  to  mo 
that  the  historical  metliod  alone  is  insufficient.     Its 
conclusions  should  be  tested,  should  be  corrected, 
by   that    reason    which    is    the    ultimate    court   of 
appeal.     The  law  of  nature  is  an  expression  of  the 
nature  of   things   in   their  ethical  relations.     The 
natural  rights  of  man  have  an  ideal — wliich  means 
most  real — value,  as  sliowing   the   goal   to   which 
society,  in  unison   with   individual  efforts,    should 
tend.     We  live  in  a  world  of  ol)]ects  conditioned 
by  ideas.     A  right  is   that   one  possession  of  the 
individual,  with  which,  in  virtue  of  the  moral  law, 
no  power  outside  him  can  interfere.     And  wliat  is 
right,  in  another,  is  duty  in  me.     All  Jmman  riglits 
are  really  but  different  aspects  of  that  one  great 
aboriginal    riglit  of    man  to  belong  to  liimself,  to 
realise  tlie  idea  of  liis  being.     And  justice  means 
respect   for   tliose    rights.     In   strictness,    positive 
law — the  rule  of  reciprocal  liberty — does  not  make 
but    merely    recognises    and   guarantees  them.     A 
Praetorian  edict,   an  Act  of  Parliament,  is  not  tlieir 
source   but   their   channel.      Our    codes   are    only 
formulas  in  wliich  we  endeavour,  witli  greater  or 
less  success,   to  apply,  in  particular  conditions  of 
life   and   social  environment,  the  dictates    of   that 
universal    law     wdiicli     is     absolute     and    eternal 
Eighteousness.     This    is,    in    Burke's    magnificent 
language,     '^  that     great    immutable,    pre-existent 
law,    prior    to    our    devices    and   prior    to    all  our 
sensations,    antecedent   to   our  very   existence,  by 


i 


• 


IV.] 


■'GOD    IS   LAW,  SAY   THE    WISE:' 


115 


which  we  are  knit  and  connected  in  the  eternal 
frame  of  the  universe,  out  of  which  Ave  cannot  stir." 
This  law,  the  great  Roman  orator  had  declared 
two  thousand  years  before,  "  no  nation  can  over- 
tln-ow  or  annul ;  neither  a  senate  nor  a  whole  people 
can  relieve  us  from  its  injunctions.  It  is  the 
same  in  Athens  and  in  Rome  ;  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  for  ever."  This  is  the  law  of  which 
Hooker  majestically  proclaims,  ''  Her  seat  is  the 
bosom  of  God,  her  voice  the  harmony  of  the  world  : 
all  things  in  heaven  and  earth  do  her  homas"e: 
the  very  least  as  feeling  her  care,  and  the  greatest 
as  not  exempted  from  her  power." 


''  God  is  law,  say  the  wise."  In  Him  the  ethical 
order  is  eternally  conceived,  eternally  realised. 
But  the  moral  law  leads  to,  is  not  derived  from,  the 
Theistic  idea.  It  bears  witness  to  verities  eternal, 
transcendental,  noumenal.  Its  correspondence  witli 
the  needs  of  our  nature  proclaims  to  us,  as  with  tlie 
voice  of  an  archangel  and  the  trump  of  God,  that  final 
causes  are  a  necessary  element  in  ethics.  From  the 
fact  of  ethical  obligation  we  ascend  to  its  source 
in  the  Infinite  and  Eternal.*     Hence  Kant  finds 


*  a 


'  I  certainly  am  not  i^rcpared  to  deny,"  observes  Mr.  Sidgwick, 
with  liis  usual  caution,  '«that  the  conception  of  duty,  in  ordinary 
minds,  carries  with  it  the  implied  relations  of  an  individual  will 
with  a  universal  will,  conceived  as  perfectlv  rational"— 7/^^  Methods 
of  Ethics,  p.  21 G,  Third  Edition. 

i2 


lie 


RATIONAL  ETHICS. 


[CH. 


ivj 


FUNDAMENTAL  POSITIONS. 


117 


in  the  moral  law  a  natural  idea  of  pure  Theism. 
Tied  down  to  the  phenomenal  world,  as  he  esteems, 
on  all  sides  of  our  being,  by  the  very  conditions  of 
knowledge,  we  have  here  a  w^ay  of  escape  into  the 
noumenaL  He  judges  that  the  realisation  of  the 
highest  good  which  the  ethical  faculty,  the  practical 
reason,  prescribes,  implies  an  order  above  that  of 
nature.  There  mnst  be,  he  argues,  a  life  beyond 
the  phenomenal,  where  the  triumph  of  the  moral 
law  shall  be  assured,  where  its  rewards  and 
penalties  shall  be  adequately  realised  ;  there  77iust 
be  a  Supreme  Moral  Governor,  who  will  bring 
about  that  triumph.  Thus  tlie  speculative  ideas  of 
God  and  Immortality  are  practically  warranted. 
And  here  is  the  crown  of  that  ethical  teleology,  as 
which  we  must  reckon  the  philosophical  system  of 
this  powerful  thinker,  taken  altogether.  But  in 
the  moral  law,  Kant  finds  not  only  tlie  promise 
of  the  life  which  is  to  come,  but  also  of  that  whicli 
now  is.  ^'  It  is  the  fundamental  fact,  not  only  of 
individual  existence,  but  of  the  social  order.  It  is 
the  supreme  rule  alike  of  private  and  public  action ; 
the  sun  of  righteousness  illuminating  the  world  of 
rational  being,  and  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the 
heat  thereof.  For  the  great  thinkers  of  the  ancient 
world  all  duties — offwia—wQVQ  included  in  ethics : 
jurisprudence  was  a  part  of  moral  philosophy.  The 
masters  of  the  medieval  school  judged  likewise.  It 
is  from  the  time  of  the  Renaissance  that  we  may 


M 


trace  the  de-ethicising  of  public  life,"*     Dr.  Mar- 
tineau  has  correctly  observed  that  by  Luther  morals 
were  treated  ''as  matters  of  social  police."     Our 
modern  utilitarianism  is  the  logical  outcome  of  his 
antinomianism.      ''Kant    has    again    pointed    the 
world  to  a  more  excellent  way.     He  deduces  the 
institution  of  the  State  from  the  categorical  impera- 
tive of  duty.     It  is  for  him  essentially  an  ethical 
society,  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  moral  law.     Its 
very  foundation   is   the   rational    acknowledgment 
that  there   are  eternal,  immutable,  principles,  and 
rules,  of  right  and  wrong.     This  is  the  everlasting 
adamant,  upon  whicli  alone  the  social  edifice  can  be 
surely  established.     Rear  it  upon  any  other  founda- 
tion, and  you  do  but  build  upon  sand.     However 
fair  the  structure  may  seem,  fall  it  must,  and  great 
will  be  the  fall  of  it."* 

And  now  let  me  conclude  this  chapter  by  exhibit- 
ing, succinctly,  what  I  hold  to  be  the  fundamental 
positions  of  Rational  Ethics.  The  moral  law,  an 
expression  of  Universal  Reason,  is  a  formal  law, 
sovereign  over  all ;  a  law  of  ideal  relation,  obliga- 
tory uptn  all  wills.  The  desire  to  do  right  as  right- 
that  alone  is  morality.  The  idea  of  -  right"  or 
"ethical  good"  is  a  simple    aboriginal    idea,  not 

*  I  am  quoting  here  from   my  work,  A  Centarij  of  Revolution, 
p.  194. 


118 


RA  TIONA  L  E  Till  CS. 


[cii. 


decomposable  into  any  other,  but  strictly  sui  generis. 
It  cannot  be  resolved  into  the  idea  of  happiness,  or 
of  pleasure,  or  of  greatest  usefulness  ;  neither  does  it 
mean  ''  connnanded  by  the  Deity/'  or  "  imposed  by 
social  needs."  It  admits  of  no  definition  save  in 
terms  of  itself,  which  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  it 
is  an  ultimate,  like  the  perception  of  sweetness  or  of 
colour.  It  is  innate,  in  the  sense  that  every  human 
being  has  the  capacity  of  acquiring  it.  But  it  is 
not  due  to  experience  as  a  cause,  nor  does  it  depend 
for  its  obligation  on  calculations  taken  from  experi- 
ence. At  the  same  time  it  has  definite  relations  to 
various  other  ideas,  while  perfectly  independent  of 
them  as  to  its  essence.  If,  for  example,  it  be  said — 
as  I  do  most  emphatically  say — that  virtue  is  a  neces- 
sary condition  of  ^' the  greatest  happiness  "^  of  the 
greatest  number,"  this  is  by  no  means  to  resolve  the 
idea  of  virtue  into  that  of  the  greatest  happiness. 
Or,  again,  if  it  be  denied— as  I  do  most  emphatic- 
ally deny— that  a  virtuous  course  of  conduct  ever 

*  Happiness  is  a  question-begging  word.    "  Our  being's  eml,  nnil 
1  aim?"    Yes  and  No.    It  depends  on  wliat  is  meant  by  *'  happiness." 
If  the    good  commonly  called    pleasure    or  "agreeable    feeling" 
Cbonum  delectabile)  is  meant,  No.     Yes,  if  ^YC  are  to  understand 
by  it  what  is  called  by  Aristotle  ehbaifiovia,  and  by  the  scholastics 
heatitudo:  a  psychical  state,  arising  from  the  equilibrium  of  the  indi- 
vidual with  his  proper  end— the  Sovereign  Good,  the  Everlasting 
Uighteousness,   the   True   Object  of  rational  desire,  in  whom  all 
ideals  are  realised.      That  is  ''  our  being's  end,  and  aim." 
*'  Und  Avenn  du  ganz  in  dem  Gefiihle  selig  bist, 
Nenn'es  dann  wie  da  willst, 
Nenn's  Gliick  !   Herz  !   Liebe  !   Gott ! " 


IV.] 


'/'  n 


1  OUGHT, 


119 


■. 


can  lead,  by  Its  very  nature,  to  unhappiness  :  from 
this  it  by  no   means  follows  that  such  a  course  of 
conduct  is  virtuous  because  it  cannot  lead  to  unhap- 
piness.    Nay,  even  if  the  calculation  of  the  sum  of 
pleasures  did,  on  every  conceivable  occasion,  indi- 
cate which  was  the  moral  and  which  the  immoral 
course,  it  would  still  remain  true  that  such  an  indi- 
cation would  be  extrinsic  to  the  goodness  or  evil 
pointed  out,  would  be  neither  its  justification  nor  its 
explanation.     Right,  as  such,  differs  from  comfort, 
delectation,  and  expediency,  as  such,    in   its  very 
essence,  as  hearing  does  from  seeing,  or  feeling  from 
intellect.      The   ideas  are  incommensurable;  they 
have  no  common  standard ;  they  cannot  be  reduced, 
the  one  to  the  other,  by  any  process  of  computation. 
^'  I  ouo-ht"  never  does  mean  it  is  pleasantest  for 
me,  or  for  thee,  or  for  all  of  us.     It  has  therefore 
nothing   to    do,   in   its  own  nature,  with  Egoism, 
Altruism,  Utilitarianism,  or  any  method  of  reckon- 
ing consequences,  save  the  one  moral  consequence, 
good  or  evil.     Its  only  "because"  is  a  moral  be- 
cause :  "  I  ought,  because  to  do  so  is  morally  right 
in  the  given  circumstances  ;  I  ought  not,  because  it 
is  morally  wrong."  Does  any  one  object  that  this  is 
tautology  ?    Not  so.    The  first  part  of  such  sentences 
preceding   the   ^M)ecause"   contains  the   individual 
application   to    me  of    the  axiomatic  or   universal 
formula  contained  in  the  part  following  it. 

I  feel  deeply  that  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  insist  upon  these  truths  at  the  present  day,  when 


120 


RATIONAL  ETHICS 


[CH. 


there  is  so  strong  and  so  growing  a  tendency  m  the 
popular  mind  to  believe  that  virtue  and  duty,  jus- 
tice and  injustice,  are  mere  matters  of  convention  ; 
when  for  the  eternal  distinction  between  true  and 
false,  right  and  wrong,  we  are  so  peremptorily  bid- 
den to  substitute  the  uncouth  shibboleths  of  a  sect 
of  physicists.     I  had  occasion,  not  long  ago,  to  cite 
the  well-known  dictum,   ''  The  rights  of  man  are  in 
a  middle."    The  printers  were  good  enough  to  make 
of  it,  ^'  The  rights  of  man  are  in  a  muddle."     In  a 
muddle  indeed  !     My  object  in  this  chapter  has  been 
to  let  in,  if  possible,  a  little  light  upon  tlie  weltering 
chaos ;    to    help    my  readers,  in  however    small    a 
degree,  to  give  order  and  fixity  to  tlicir  ethical  con- 
ceptions.    But  one  is  nothing  in   England  if  not 
what  is  called  ''  practical."     Your  average  English- 
man does  not  care  greatly  whether  there  be  a  God 
or  not,   provided  the  price  of  stock  does  not  fall. 
There  is  truth  in  Mr.  Carlyle's  account  of  him,  that 
if  you  want  to  awaken  his  real  beliefs,  you  must 
descend  into  his  ^'  stomach,  purse,  and  the  adjacent 
Kant  tells  us  that  a  man  has  reason  and 


regions. 


understanding.  Reason  seems  to  have  well-nigh 
departed  from  the  British  mind  since  the  overthrow 
among  us  of  the  Aristotelian  philosopy  by  Hobbes 
and  Locke.  I  quoted,  in  a  former  chapter,  the  state- 
ment which  seems  to  me  not  unwarranted,  that  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer  is  the  philosopher  of  the  present 
day  in  England  and  in  America.  No  wonder. 
He    is    most  industrious,   most    precise,  most    con- 


•/ 


1 1 


IV.] 


ENGLISH   UNILEALISM. 


121 


scientious,    most    clear,    when  he    chooses,    within 
certain  limits.     But  they  are  narrow  limits,  like  the 
four  walls  of  a  shop.      Of  the  vast  horizons  beyond 
he  has  no  knowledge.     "  The  vision  and  the  faculty 
divine,"   essential  to  all  philosophy  worthy  of  the 
name,  are  not  in  him.  His  popularity  is  an  emphatic 
testimony  to  the  singular  unidealism— I  had  almost 
written  the  congenital  imbecility— of  the  English 
mind  in  respect  of  eternal  and  divine  realities.     I 
suppose  an  effort  should  be  made  to  heal  it.     But 
who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?    Exoriare  aliquis. 
Meanwhile,  in  order  to  put  myself  in  touch  with  the 
national  sentiment,  I  shall,  in  the  remaining  chapters 
of  this  work,   indicate  six  practical  applications  of 
the  doctrine  of  Right  and  Wrong,  upon  which  I 
have  been  insisting. 


v.]  THE  n  ATI  ON  ALE  OF  CRLMINAL  LAW. 


128 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ETHICS    OF    PUNISHMENT. 

I  HAVE  before  me  tlie  most  considerable  contribution 
made,  of  late,  to  tlie  world's  criminal  jmisprudencc: 
the  new  Itcdlan  Fenal  Code,  together  wdth  the  ela- 
borate Eeport  w4th  wdiich  it  was  submitted  to  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  by  Signer  Zanardelli,  the 
ilinister  of  Grace,  Justice,  and  Public*.  "Worship  of 
the  Italian  Kingdom.  These  documents  are,  for 
many  reasons,  of  great  interest,  and  would  w^ell  repay 
detailed  examination.  Here,  however,  I  am  con- 
cerned with  them  from  only  one  point  of  view. 
The  first  question  w^hicli  a  Fenal  Code  suggests  is, 
What  is  the  rationcde  of  punishment  ?  That  ques- 
tion Si2:nor  Zanardelli  does  not  so  nmcli  as  discuss, 
deeming,  apparently,  that  the  matter  is  too  ])lain.  He 
contents  himself  with  citing  the  dictum,  "  Poena 
in  paucos  ut  metus  in  omnes,"  observing,  by  Ava)"  of 
comment  upon  it,  that  ''wiien  the  penalty  surpasses 
the  limit  required  by  this  necessary  end  of  preven- 
tion, it  becomes  useless  punishment."  His  mind  is 
dominated  by  the  utilitarian  view  of  the  subject. 
And  so  in  another  })lace   in  his  Report  he  lays  it 


down  as  a  kind  of  axiom,  ''The  whole  endeavour 
of  the  legislator,  in  the  discipline  and  proportion  of 
penalties,  ought  to  aim  at  rendering  them  capable 
of  greater  repressive  energy,  and  of  more  vigorous 
corrective  effect,  at  the  same  time."  Punishment 
should  deter  and  correct,  and  so  prevent  crime.  That, 
according  to  this  jurisprudent,  is  the  whole  account 
of  criminal  justice.     Is  it  a  sufficient  account  ? 

A  great  number  of  people,  I  take  it,  will  be  sur- 
prised that  the  question  can  even  be  asked.     It  has 
never    dawaied  upon   them  that  there  can  be  any 
other  reason  for  punishing  a  man,  than  to  deter  hnn, 
and,  by  his  example,  others,  from  the  commission  of 
crime,  and,  if  possible,  to  reform  him.  And  of  these 
two  reasons,  the  first  w^ould  be  taken  to  be  the  chief. 
The  great  object  of  the  penal  law  is  held  to  be  the 
prevention  of  crime  by  presenting  to  men  weightier 
motives  for  abstaining  from  it,   than  those  which 
invite  to  its  commission.     Now  I  am  far  from  deny- 
ing that  punishment  is,  and  ought  to  be,  deterrent. 
Man  is   not,  as  Rousseau  taught,  naturally  good. 
The  Terror  set  up  by  his  Jacobin  disciples,  given 
over  to  a  strong  delusion  to  believe  this  lie,  is  the 
best  comment  upon  their  master's  ^^  central  moral 
doctrine."     ''  The  evil  in  the  world,"  is  not,  as  Mr. 
John  Morley  would  have  us  believe,  "•  the  result  of 
bad  education  and  bad  institutions."*     It  has  its 
root  in  the  heart  of    man,  whence  ^^  proceed  evil 
tlKHights,  murders,  adultery,  fornication,  thefts,  false 

*  Diderot,  vol.  i.  p.  5. 


124 


THE  ETHICS  OE  PUXISHMEXT. 


[oil. 


Avitness,  blasphemies."     Self-love  is  ever  seeking  its 
gratification  at  the  expense  of  others ;  and  fear,  the 
niio'htiest  and  most  universal  of  human  affects,  is  its 
strono-est  curb.      ^'Homo   liomini  lupus,"  says  the 
proverb.      It  is   the  true    account   of    man,  apart 
from  law  and  justice.     One  important  function  of 
criminal    jurisprudence   is    to  tame   and   discipline 
tlie  wild  beast   tliat  is  within  us.     Punishment  is 
assuredly  deterrent.     And  if   it  can  be  niade  reme- 
dial, so  much  the  better,  according  to  the  inscription 
placed  by  Clement  XL  over  the  door  of  the  prison 
of  St.  Michael,  ''  Parum  est  improbos  coercere  pcrna, 
nisi  probos  efhcias  disciplina."     It  sliould,  however, 
be  noted,   that  in   the  mouths  of  jMaterialists  "  re- 
formation "  means  nothing  more  than  hindrance  by 
fear  of  consequences,  or  prudent  self-restraint.     The 
only  ethical  signification  of  the  word  is  conversion 
of  the  will  from  bad  to  good.  But  I  deny  that  this  is 
a  sufficient  account  of  punishment.     I  say  that  its 
primary  object  is  not  the  protection  of  society,  nor 
the  reformation  of  the  criminal.     I  say  that  it  is 
first  and  before  all  things  vindictive.     I   can  well 
imagine  how  repulsive   the  word  will  sound  in  the 
ears  of  many.     To  me,  that  so  elementary  a  truth 
should  even  require  to  be  justified,  is  sad  and  strange 
indeed.     It  is  a  melancholy  token  how  deeply  Mate- 
rialism has  de-ethicised  the  public  mind  of  a  gene- 
ration — 

"...     wanting  virtue  to  be  strong 

Up  to  the  measure  of  accorded  miglit, 

And  daring  n<3t  to  feid  tlie  majesty  of  right." 


1 


^■•] 


PENAL  SANCTION. 


125 


But.  lot  lis  look  at  the  subject  a  little  in  detail. 
AVe  will  start  from  a  fact  which  every  one  will 
admit  :  the  fact  that  punishment  is  associated  in  our 
minds  with  wrong-doing.     Is  the  association  neces- 
sary or  accidental  ?     Tiie  philosophy  of  relativity 
says  it    is  accidental.      That   "the  imposition  of 
punishment  is  the  distinctive  property  of  acts  held 
to  be  morally  wrong  "  is,  in  substance,  the  teaching 
of  utilitarian,  experimental,  and  physical  moralists 
generally.     You  make  an  act  wrong,  they  tell  us, 
by  making  it  penal.     It  is  not  punished  because  it 
is  wrong,  but  wrong  because  it  is  punished.     Their 
idea  of  hiw  is  purely  empirical.     Eorce  sufficiently 
explains  it.     In  opposition  to  this  doctrine  I  main- 
tain, with  Kant,  that  the  connection  between  moral 
evil  and  punishment  is  not  accidental,  but  neces- 
sary :  the  work  of  reason,*  not  of  human  caprice. 
I  will  proceed  to  explain  why  I  hold  this. 

In  the  last  chapter  I  have  unfolded,  at  some 
length,  what  I  understand  to  be  meant  by  the 
moral  law.  I  hold  that  it  means  that  rule  of  action 
which  necessarily  arises  out  of  the  relation  of  reason 
to  itself  as  its  own  end.  And  I  hold  that  the  firsj 
fn£t_3bout  man  is  his  consciousness  of  the  moral 
law,  and  of  his  obligation  to  obey  it.  But  the  very 
Voi-ds   "law"  and    obligation"  "imply  a    penal 

*  "  Eiullich  ist  iiocli  etwas  in  der  Idee  unserer  praktisclien  Ver- 
nunft  wok'l.es  die  Uol.ertrotnng  cincs  sittlichcr  Gesetzes  beglcitct, 
iiilnilich  ilu-o  Strafwunligkeit."  KritiL  der  Pnd:  Vernmjt,  1st  Tart, 
Book  I.  §  8. 


12(] 


TIIK  ETHICS  OF  PrXJSfr^fEXT. 


[cii. 


sanction.  The  categorical  imperative,  ''  Thou 
oughtest,"  does  not,  and  cannot  mean,  ''  Thou 
may  est,  if  thou  wilt,  and  if  thou  dost  not,  thou  wilt 
be  none  the  worse."  What  it  does  mean  is  this  : 
"  That  is  rig'lit ;  it  should  be  ;  it  is  unconditionally 
desirable  ;  tliou  canst  do  it,  and  thou  must :  thus 
dictates  the  law  of  tliy  being,  tlie  law  that  thou  art 
born  under,  which  it  is  thy  great  good  to  obey,  thy 
supreme  evil  to  disobey."  Such  is  the  witness  in 
ourselves.  And  its  testimony  is  supremely  rational. 
^'Good  doth  follow  unto  all  things  by  observing 
the  course  of  their  nature,  and,  on  the  contrary 
side,  evil  by  not  observing  it.  And  is  it  possible 
that  man,  being  not  only  the  noblest  creature  in  the 
world,  but  even  a  world  in  himself,  liis  trangressing 
tlie  law  of  his  nature  should  draw  no  manner  of 
harm  after  it  ?  Yes  :  tribulation  and  anguisli  unto 
every  soul  that  doeth  evil."  *  So  Hooker,  Avho 
never  wrote  more  judiciously.  His  argument  does 
])ut  formally  justify  a  universal,  an  ineradicable 
feeling  of  humanity.  The  deep  conviction  that  in 
moral  evil  must  be  sought  the  ex])lanation  of  phy- 
sical evil,  is  the  conunon  heritage  of  our  race. 
That  there  is  an  inseparable  connection  between 
wrong-doing  and  punishment,  is  an  organic  instinct 
of  conscience.  And  instinct — we  may  call  it,  with 
Kant,  the  Voice  of  God — never  deceives.  There  is 
always  a  reality  which  corresponds  with  its  antici- 


* 


Ecclesiastical  Polit?/,  Book  I.  c.  9. 


v.]      SELF-WILL  AND  THE    UXIVEllSAL  WILL.     127 

pation.  What  answers  to  the  instinct  of  retributive 
justice  is  punishment.  It  is  as  real  as  the  law.  It 
is  contained  in  the  law.  It  is  involved  in  the  trans- 
gression. It  is,  in  Hegel's  phrase,  '^tlie  other  half 
of  crime."  The  sanction  implied  in  the  moral  law 
is  the  violent  restoration  of  the  moral  order.  Not 
that  the  violence  is  an  end  in  itself,  although  it  is  a 
necessary  accompaniment.  Certain  is  it  that  pain 
qua  pain,  like  pleasure,  qua  pleasure,  is  morally 
valueless,  and  cannot  be  the  outcome  of  any  ethical 
law,  qua  ethical.  As  certain  is  it  tluit  punishment 
includes  pain,  in  some  sense. 

Let  us  realise  this.  Punishment  is  not  something 
arbitrary.  Wrong-doing — called,  variously,  accord- 
ing to  the  point  of  view  from  which  it  is  regarded, 
sin,  crime,  delict — is  the  assertion  of  a  man's  own 
particular  self-will  against  the  Universal  Will,  which 
is  Supreme  Reason,  Supreme  Right — for  reason  and 
right  are  synonymous.  Penalty  is  the  re-assertion 
of  the  Universal  AVill.  It  is  not  a  wrong  done  to 
the  criminal.  It  is  a  right  done  to  him  to  redress 
his  wrong— a  right  due  to  him  as  a  person.  It  is  a 
manifestation,  an  application,  to  him  of  that  reason 
wherein  he  too  consists,  and  which  he  has  outraged. 
His  compulsion  is  undone.  He  is  restored  to  his 
rijrht.  The  moral  law  must  rule  over  all :  over  the 
good  by  their  submission  to  its  behests,  over  the  evil 
by  their  endurance  of  its  penalties.  Justice  is  an  abso- 
lute and  aboriginal  principle  of  it.  And  we  shall 
find  no  Ijetter  definition  of  justice  than  Ulpian's  : 


»t 


128 


THE  K  nil  as  of  puxisiiment. 


[CH. 


v.]     WHAT  MAKES  ClilMINAL  JUSTICE  JUST/ 


12  U 


''  The  constant  and  perpetual  will  to  render  to  every 
man  his  right."  Punishment  is  the  right  of  the 
wrong-doer.  It  is  the  application  of  justice  to  him. 
"  It  is/'  in  St.  Augustine's  fine  phrase,  "  the  justice 
of  the  unjust."  The  wrong  whereby  he  has  trans- 
firressed  the  law  of  right  has  incurred  a  debt.  Jus- 
tice  requires  that  the  debt  be  paid,  that  the  wrong 
be  expiated. 

Yes,  expiated,  Tliis  is  the  first  object  of  punish- 
ment —  to  make  satisfaction  to  outraged  law. 
Nothing  is  more  profoundly  unphilosophical  than 
the  notion  so  dear  to  the  sickly  sentimentality  of 
the  day,  that  wlien  a  man  ceases  to  do  evil,  a 
sponge  is  passed,  so  to  speak,  over  the  reckoning 
against  him. 

"  A  spotless  child  sleeps  on  the  flowering  moss — 
'Tis  well  for  him  ;  hut  when  a  sinful  man 
Envying  such  slumhor,  may  desire  to  put 
His  cruilt  away,  shall  he  return  at  once 
To  rest  hy  lying  there  ?     Our  sires  knew  well 
The  fitting  course  for  such  ;  dark  cells,  dim  lamps, 
A  stone  floor  one  may  writhe  on  like  a  worm  ; 
No  mossy  pillow  hlue  with  violets  !  " 

Profoundly  true  are  these  verses  of  Robert 
Browning.  Similar  is  the  teaching  of  Plato  in  the 
Gorglas^  so  strangely  misapprehended  by  some  of 
his  modern  interpreters,  who  have  read  him  with 
the  eyes  of  a  nineteenth-century  sentimentalist. 
''  The  doer  of  unjust  actions  is  miserable  in  any 
case ;  more  miserable,  however,  if  he  be  not 
punished  and  does  not  meet    with  retribution,  and 


i 


less  miserable  if  he  be  punished,  and  meets  with 
retribution  at  the  hands  of  gods  and  men."  Tlio 
whole  argument  of  Socrates  in  his  fanu)us  passage 
is  founded  on  the  need  of  expiation.  '*  The 
greatest  of  evils,"  he  insists,  ^'is  for  a  guilty  man 
to  escape  punishment :  "  for  *'  he  who  is  punished 
and  suffers  retribution,  suffers  justly  ;  but  justice  is 
good  :  so  that  he  wlio  thus  suftYuvs,  suffers  what  is 
o'ood."  St.  Augusthie  has  summed  it  up  in  four 
pregnant  words  :  '^  Nulla  poena,  quanta  poena  !  " 

Such  is  the  sanction  of  that  moral  law,  which  is 
the    very  raison   cVelre  of    government.     Man,    as 
man,  has  no  claim  upon  my  obedience.     Only  to 
the  law  of  Kight,  speaking  tln-ough  lunnan  ministers, 
is  my  obedience  due.     And  here  is  to  be  found  tlu^ 
underlying  jn^incipU^  whicli  makes  criminal  justice 
just.     Tlie  moral  law  apin-eliended,   not  inadr,  by 
our  practical  reason,  implies  that  right  is  rewarded 
and   wrong  punished.     That,   as  we  luive  seen,  is 
involved    in    the    very  conceptiiui    of  law.     Penal 
jurisprudence  is  simply  a  nu)ral  judgment  exhibited 
in   visible   form.     Tims   Aiiuinas,    witli   his   usual 
clearness  and  precision:  '^  The  law  of  nature"— 
the  law   arising   from   tluit    Divine  Keason   which 
is     the     nature    of     things— **  proclaims    that    lio 
who  offends  should  l)e    punislied.      Ihit    to    defme 
tliat    this    or  tliat   punishment   sliouUi   be    inilictcd 
upon  him,  is  a  detennination  drawn  from  the  law 
of   nature   by    human    law.'^*     And   to    the    same 

*  Summit,  1,  2,  q.  1)5,  art.  2. 


130 


THE  ETHICS  OF  FUiXISILMEXT. 


[CH. 


effect  Butler:    ^^  Civil  government  being   natural, 
the  punishments  of  it  are  so  too."* 

This  is  the  true  philosophy  of  criminal  law.     In 
matter   of  fact,   as    Sir  Henry   Maine  has  pointed 
out,  two   great  instincts  lie  at  the  root  of  it:  to 
avenge  and  to  deter.     Both  must  be  recognised  and 
reckoned  with.     Resentment   at   wrong,   desire  of 
retribution    upon  tlie   wrong-doer,    are   primordial 
principles  as  deeply  implanted  in  our  nature  as  pity 
or   desire    of   self-preservation — implanted   by  the 
same    Almighty    hand,    and    as    legitimate,    nay, 
necessary.     They  are  organic  instincts,  which  we 
possess  in  common  with  the  whole  creation,  groan- 
ing   and   travailing   in  pain  together  with   us,  in 
the    struggle    for    existence,    througliout    nature's 
illimitable  sphere  of  carnage  and  cruelty.     But  it  is 
an  essential  condition  of  civilised  human  life  that 
individual    retaliation,   sure    to    be   cruel    and    ex- 
cessive, should  be    superseded    by  the    passionless 
punishment  of  law.     The  state  is  an  ethical  society, 
wherein  the  instinct  of  revenge  is  moralised  :  that 
is,  removed  from   the    domain   of   impulse  to  the 
domain  of  reason,  elevated  from  the  particular  to 
the    universal.     It    thus    becomes,    as    retributive 
justice,  an  expression  of   the  ethical  miglit  of  the 
social   organism:  an    attribute  of    Right,    and   tlie 

*  Aru(Io(/>/j  Part  I.  <•.  2. 


I 


' 


v.] 


THE  LEX  TALIONIS. 


131 


bulwark  of  freedom.     The  primitive  rule  was  the 
lex  talloms.     It  was  said  by  them  of  old  time,  An 
eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.     And  this 
was  said,    St.    Augustine   well  points   out,    not  to 
foster    revenge,    but    to   check    it.*     The   natural 
tendency  of  the  injured  person  is  to  do  unto  the 
offender  as  he  has  done,  and  more  also.     But,  as  St. 
Augustine  goes  on  to  remark,  there  is  a  vengeance 
which  is  just :  ''est  quoedam  justa  vindicta."     Nor, 
let   me    observe  in   passing— to   meet   an   obvious 
objection— is  this  just  vengeance  at  variance  with 
the  spirit  of  Christianity.     If  ever  any  man  had  a 
right  authoritatively  to  expound  that  spirit,  it  was 
the  illustrious  saint  and  doctor  whom  I  have  just 
quoted.      The    precepts    of    the    Sermon    on    the 
Mount   as   to   non-resistance    of    evil,    as   to    the 
turning  of  the  left  cheek  to  the  smiter  of  the  right, 
naturally  occur  to  the  mind.     I  am  far  from  saying 
that   those   elect   souls    who   embrace    counsels    of 
perfection— who,  in  voluntary  poverty,   voluntary 
chastity,  and  voluntary  obedience,  lose  their  lives, 
and   find   them— may   not   give  to  these  precepts 
literal  obedience,  if  they  are  led  to    do  so.     But 
St.    Augustine  points   out  that   the    words   of   the 
Divine    Master    have    reference    rather    to    "the 
preparation  of  the  heart,"  to  the  inward  spirit  of 
man,  than  to  the  outward  act.f     The  supreme  rule 

*  Contra  Faiistum,  xix.  25. 
•|-  Ep.  cxxxviii.  2. 

k2 


130 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PUNISHMENT. 


[CH. 


v.] 


THE  LEX  TALIONIS. 


131 


effect  Butler :    '^  Civil  government  being   natural, 
the  punishments  of  it  are  so  too."* 

This  is  the  true  philosophy  of  criminal  law.     In 
matter   of  fact,   as   Sir  Henry  Maine  has  pointed 
out,  two  great  instincts  lie  at  the  root  of  it:  to 
avenge  and  to  deter.     Both  must  be  recognised  and 
reckoned  with.     Resentment   at   wi'ong,   desii^e  of 
retribution   upon  the   wrong-doer,    are   primordial 
principles  as  deeply  implanted  in  our  nature  as  pity 
or   desire   of   self-preservation — implanted   by  the 
same    Almighty    hand,    and    as    legitimate,    nay, 
necessary.     They  are  organic  instincts,  which  we 
possess  in  common  with  the  wliole  creation,  groan- 
ing   and   travailing   in  pain  together  with   us,  in 
the    struggle    for    existence,    throughout    nature's 
illimitable  sphere  of  carnage  and  cruelty.     But  it  is 
an  essential  condition  of  civilised  human  life  that 
individual   retaliation,   sure    to   be   cruel   and    ex- 
cessive, should  be    superseded   by  the    passionless 
punishment  of  law.     The  state  is  an  ethical  society, 
wlierein  the  instinct  of  revenge  is  moralised  :  that 
is,  removed  from   the    domain   of   impulse  to  the 
domain  of  reason,  elevated  from  the  particular  to 
the    universal.     It    thus    becomes,    as    retributive 
justice,  an  expression  of   the  ethical  miglit  of  the 
social   organism:  an    attribute  of    Right,    and   tlic 

*  Analogy,  Part  I.  c.  2. 


* 


bulwark  of  freedom.  The  primitive  rule  was  the 
lex  talionis.  It  was  said  by  them  of  old  time,  An 
eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.  And  this 
was  said,  St.  Augustine  well  points  out,  not  to 
foster  revenge,  but  to  check  it.*  The  natural 
tendency  of  the  injured  person  is  to  do  unto  the 
offender  as  he  has  done,  and  more  also.  But,  as  St. 
Augustine  goes  on  to  remark,  there  is  a  vengeance 
which  is  just :  ''est  quaedam  justa  vindicta."  Nor, 
let  me  observe  in  passing — to  meet  an  obvious 
objection — is  this  just  vengeance  at  variance  with 
the  spirit  of  Christianity.  If  ever  any  man  had  a 
right  authoritatively  to  expound  that  spirit,  it  was 
the  illustrious  saint  and  doctor  whom  I  have  just 
quoted.  The  precepts  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  as  to  non-resistance  of  evil,  as  to  the 
turning  of  the  left  cheek  to  the  smiter  of  the  right, 
natm^ally  occur  to  the  mind.  I  am  far  from  saying 
that  those  elect  souls  who  embrace  counsels  of 
perfection — who,  in  voluntary  poverty,  voluntary 
chastity,  and  voluntary  obedience,  lose  their  lives, 
and  find  them — may  not  give  to  these  precepts 
literal  obedience,  if  they  are  led  to  do  so.  But 
St.  Augustine  points  out  that  the  words  of  the 
Divine  Master  have  reference  rather  to  "  the 
preparation  of  the  heart,"  to  the  inward  spirit  of 
man,  than  to  the  outward  act.f     The  supreme  rule 

*  Contra  Faustum,  xix.  25,. 
j"  Ep.  cxxxviii.  2. 

k2 


132 


THE  ETHICS   OF  PUNISHMENT, 


[CH. 


is  to  return  good  for  evil.  Unwillingness  to  inflict 
pain  may  be  a  flagrant  violation  of  that  rule.  The 
greatest  good  which  can  be  rendered  to  the  unjust 
is  justice.  Charity  strictly  requires  us  to  render  it. 
The  principle  of  the  lex  taUonis  is  justice,  retribu- 
tive justice.  That  principle  is  everlastingly  true, 
even  if,  in  our  deeper  apprehension  of  the  sacred- 
ness  of  human  personality,  we  put  aside  the  cruder 
applications  given  to  it  by  primitive  jurisprudence. 
We  no  longer  mutilate  the  thief,  although  there  are 
cases  in  which  it  might,  at  first  sight,  seem  not 
improper  so  to  do.  I  remember  one  such  in  my 
experience  as  a  magistrate  in  India.  A  man  had 
cut  off  the  two  hands  of  a  boy,  three  or  four  years 
old,  in  order  to  possess  himself  of  the  silver  bangles 
which  were  soldered  round  the  child's  wrists.  And 
when  the  poor  little  sufferer  was  brought  into  court, 
and  held  up  his  mutilated  arms,  and  a  thrill  of  sick 
horror  ran  through  the  building,  I  confess  I  for  one 
regretted  bitterly,  for  a  moment,  that  the  archaic 
rule  could  not  be  applied,  at  least  in  that  case. 
Penal  servitude  for  life  seemed  inadequate  :  and 
was.  Pain,  sharp  pain,  sharp  and  repeated,  would 
assuredly  have  been  a  more  fitting  penalty.  Un- 
questionably, in  the  existing  criminal  jurisprudence 
of  the  world,  the  element  of  physical  suffering  does 

\  not  find  sufficient  place.  There  is  a  large  class  of 
crimes  — assaults,  especially  of  a  lascivious  character, 
upon  women  and  children,  and  aggravated  cruelty 

1   to  animals,  are  instances  of  them — in  the  punish- 


^•] 


RETRIBUTIVE  JUSTICE. 


133 


f 


' 


ment  of  which  a  liberal  employment  of  the  lash,  or 
of  some  other  instrument  of  corporal  torture,  is 
imperatively  demanded  by  justice. 

This  by  the  way.  My  present  point  is,  that 
whether  we  view  the  matter  historically  or  philo- 
sophically, the  punishment  inflicted  by  human 
jurisprudence  is,  like  all  punishment,  primarily 
vindictive.  It  is  the  legal  consequence,  united  to 
the  legal  cause  by  a  necessity  arising  from  the 
nature  of  things.  Crime,  as  the  old  Roman  juris- 
consults discerned,  gives  rise  to  a  vinculum  juris 
which  punishment  discharges.  The  7'aison  cfetre 
of  tlie  State  is  to  unite  men  by  a  moral  bond.  And 
assuredly,  in  its  highest  function,  the  ministration 
of  justice,  it  is  not  unmoral.  The  civil  magistrate 
is  the  dispenser  of  righteous  retribution,  as  the 
minister  of  God;  ^^  a  revenger  to  execute  wrath 
upon  him  that  doeth  evil,"  St.  Paul  teaches ;  the 
'^  wrath"  being  that  which  is  due  to  the  wrong- 
doer. ''  Punishment,''  says  Kant,  ^'must  be  justi- 
fied as  punishment :  that  is  as  mere  evil  for  its 
own  sake,  so  tliat  the  punished  person,  when  he 
looks  thereon,  must  liimself  confess  that  Right  is 
done  to  him,  and  that  his  lot  is  entirely  commen- 
surate with  his  conduct."*  The  moral  law, 
whether  speaking  through  the  still,  small  voice 
within,  or  with  the  tongue  of  a  Judge  from  an 
external   tribunal,    merely    shows   to   us    our   true 

*  Kritik  der  Pral\  Vermiift,  1st  Part,  Book  I.  §  8. 


134 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PUNISHMENT. 


[cu. 


selves,  as  Hamlet  showed  the  unhappy  Gertrude  to 
herself.  It  mirrors  us  to  consciousness.  Punish- 
ment is  the  return  of  a  man's  deed  upon  himself. 
"  Illo  nocens  se  damnat  quo  peccat  die,"  says  the 
maxim  of  Roman  jurisprudence.  And  again : 
'^  Ipse  te  poense  subdidisti."  The  magistrate  does 
but  pronounce  the  doom  to  which  the  wrong-doer 
has  subjected  himself  by  his  own  deed  ;  the  penalty 
which,  by  the  eternal  law  of  Right,  whence  human 
law  derives  its  majesty,  nay,  its  very  life,  is  the 
proper  complement  of  his  crime. 


The  world's  jurisprudence  is  the  phenomenal 
expression  of  noumenal  truth :  the  human  inter- 
pretation of  a  divine  ideal :  imperfect  at  the  best, 
but  bound,  as  '^  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widened," 
ever  to  approximate  more  nearly  to  that  Absolute 
Standard  of  which  it  must  ever  fall  short.  It  rests 
in  the  last  resort  upon  that  knowledge  of  right  and 
wrong  in  the  springs  of  action  which  is  possessed 
by  our  self -judging  moral  understanding.  It  rests 
upon  conscience :  the  voice  of  divine  reason  within 
us.  The  whole  philosophy  of  relativity,  in  the 
sphere  of  ethics  as  elsewhere,  is  a  blasphemy 
against  reason.  It  is  an  attempt  to  derive  morality 
from  the  unmoral.  If  our  actions  are  the  necessary 
outcome  of  molecular  changes  in  the  brain,  of 
atomic  movements  of  matter,  it  is  an  absurdity  to 
talk    of    moral    responsibility.     If    the    difference 


v.] 


WHAT  MORAL  ACTION  MEANS. 


135 


I 


. 


between  good  and  bad  is  not  absolute,  it  does  not 
exist  at  all.  You  cannot  get  such  a  difference  from 
the  consequences.  All  materialistic  explanations 
of  moral  approval  and  disapproval,  of  guilt,  self- 
accusation,  remorse,  destroy  the  reality  of  them. 
Yes  :  and  destroy  the  whole  value  of  life,  for  the 
Avliole  value  of  life  is  its  ethical  value.  ''  If  the 
rulers  of  the  universe  do  not  prefer  the  just  man  to 
the  unjust,"  said  Socrates,  ^^  it  is  better  to  die  than 
to  live."  If  righteousness  is  not  the  supreme  law, 
existence  is  indeed  a  ridiculous  tragedy.  Mate- 
rialism, in  all  its  schools,  reduces  man  from  a 
person  to  a  thing  :  for  it  denies  to  him  that  faculty 
of  volition  which  is  the  essence  of  his  personality : 
the  condition  of  the  attribute  constituting  him  man. 
Volition  and  morality  are  indissolubly  connected : 
tlieir  realm  is  one  and  the  same.  Man  is  volitional 
and  ethical  qua  man.  The  conception  of  him  as  a 
machine  is  irrational.  L'^homyne -machine,  I  say,  is 
nonsense,  worthy  of  the  buffoon  who  invented  the 
phrase. 

Moral  action  means  the  action  of  a  self-conscious 
and  self-determined  being,  and  can  mean  nothing 
else.  Kant  has  summed  the  matter  up  in  a 
pregnant  dictum  :  ''  Everything  in  nature  acts 
according  to  laws  :  the  distinction  of  a  rational 
being  is  the  faculty  of  acting  according  to  the 
consciousness  of  laws."  The  supreme  question  at 
issue  in  the  world  of  thought,  in  tliese  days,  is 
whether  that  faculty  really  exists.     I  say  advisedly 


136 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PUNISHMENT, 


[cii. 


^'  the  supreme  question."     The   very  existence  of 
morality  depends  upon  it.     For  a  plain  man,  Dr. 
Johnson's  rough-and-ready  way  of  settling  it  may 
well  suffice:  ''Sir.  we  Imoio  that  our  will  is  free, 
and  there's  an  end  of  it."     But  that  the  speculative 
difficulties  which  may   be   raised   concerning   this 
question  are  enormous,  every  tyro  in  metaphysics 
is  aware.     To  enter  into  a  detailed  investigation  of 
"  that  labyrintli  of  philosophy,"  as  Leibnitz  called 
it,    would   require  a  bulky  volume.     Its   outlines, 
however,   may   be,   and  ought  to  be,  here  briefly 
indicated.     For  a  statement  of  the  creed  of  Deter- 
minism we  cannot  do  better  than  go  to  the  late  Mr. 
John  Stuart  Mill.     In  his  criticism  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  he  pronounces  it  ^^  a  truth  of  experience 
that  volitions  do,  in  point  of  fact,  follow  determinate 
moral  antecedents  with  the  same  timformity  and  with 
the  same  certainty^  as  physical  effects  follow  their 
physical  causes."     And  in  the  second  volume  of  his 
Logic  he  writes  as  follows  :   ''  The  doctrine  called 
Philosophical  Necessity  is  simply  this :  that,  given  the 
motives  which  are  present  to  an  individual's  mind, 
and  given  likewise  the  character  and  disposition  of 
the  individual,  the  manner  in  which  he  will  act  may 
be  unerringly  inferred  ;  that  if  we  knew  the  person 
thoroughly,   and  knew  all  the  inducements  which 
are  acting  on  him,  we   could  foretell  his  conduct 
with  as    mucli    certainty    as  we    can    predict   any 
physical  event."     Now  if  tliis  doctrine  be  true,  it  is 
obvious  that  there  is  no  place    in    human  life  for 


V.J 


THE  QUESTION  OF  FREE  WILL. 


137 


1 


1 


culpability  and  moral  turpitude,  in  the  old  and  only 
intelligible  sense  of  the  words.     If  a  man's  actions 
are   absolutely    determined   by  character  and  dis- 
position—which Mr.  Mill  regarded  as  the  outcome 
of  heredity  and  environment— and  by  the  pressure 
of  passions  and  desires,  then  most  assuredly  he  is 
not   morally    responsible   for    those    actions.     And 
the  miserable  people,   of  whom  Dante  tells  us  ni 
the  Inferno^  are  fully  warranted  when  they  blame, 
as  the  cause  of  their  sufferings,  everything  except 
their  abuse  of  their  free  personality,  their  own  bad 
will :  ''  when  they  blaspheme  Grod  and  their  pro- 
genitors and  the  whole  race  of  men,  the  place,  the 
time,  the  origin  of  their  seed  and  of  their  birth." 
But  no.     It  is  not  so.     Psychological  heredity  is 
not   uniform,    is  not  absolute.     The   soul   lias    an 
originating  causality,  and  is  the  fount  of  duties  and 
deserts,  of  guilt  and  punishment.     Man  is  not  the 
mere   creature   of    circumstances,    the   predestined 
product  of  nature.     Side  by  side  with  mechanical 
determination  by  empirical  motives,  there  exists  in 
him   self-determination.     He  belongs— consciously 
belongs— to  the  sphere  of  reason  as  well  as  to  the 
sphere  of  sense.     And  therefore  he  is  the  subject  of 
moral  obligation.    We  may,  in  some  sort,  admit  that 
the  character  of  a  man  at  any  moment  determines 
his  choice  of  motives  :  but  he  is  largely  determined 
as  he  determines  himself.     A  man's  character,  I  say, 
is  not  something  imposed  upon  him  from  without, 
but  something  shaped,  to  a  great  extent,  by  himself 


138 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PUNISHMENT. 


[CH. 


from  within  :  and  ^^  a  self -distinguishing*  and  self- 
seeking  consciousness"  is  its  ^^ basis."*  He  is, 
.  according  to  a  wise  Spanish  proverb,  'Hhe  son  of 
/^  his  own  deeds.''  "La  liberte  humaine,"  says 
Bossuet,  ^'semble  de  sa  nature  indeterminee :  elle 
se  precise  par  Faction  :  en  se  precisant  elle  s'enve- 
loppe  et  s'enchaine  de  ses  actes,  comme  le  ver-a-soie 
dans  sa  coque.  Elle  ne  reste  pas  moins  maitresso 
de  denouer  le  lien  qu'elle  a  nouc:  elle  a^at  efc  rca^j-it : 
elle  soutient  le  choc  et  livre  Tassaut."  It  is  grandly 
said.  And  with  the  grandeur,  not  merely  of 
rhetoric,  but  of  truth.  Aristotle  teaches— and  the 
teaching  is  by  no  means  antiquated,  although  two 
thousand  years  old  —  that  the  rational  nature 
supplies  the  rule  of  life,  and  that  the  law  of  habit 
provides  for  the  attainment  of  facility  in  doing 
what  reason  requires.  But  habit  is  \\\o  outcome  of 
volition ;  and  for  the  freedom  of  man's  volition 
it  is  enough  to  appeal— this  is  the  justification  of 
Dr.  Johnson's  dictum— to  the  categorical  imperative 
^  of  conscience.  ^^  I  ought"  implies  "I  can."  The 
realisation  of  duty  is  impossible  for  any  being 
which  is  not  conceived  as  capable  of  self-deter- 
mination. The  speculative  idea  of  freedom,  like 
the  speculative  ideas  of  God  and  immortality,  is 
practically  warranted. 

When,  then,  we  affirm  human  freedom  of  action, 
we  mean  by  it,  action  from  a  motive  intelligible  to, 

*  See  T.  H.  Green's  Prohxjomena  to  Ethics,  Book  II.  c.  1 . 


\^4: 


v.] 


THE  FIRST   WORD  AND  THE  LAST, 


139 


and  chosen  by,   a  self-conscious  moral  being.     A 
deed   may  be   morally   necessitated,    and   morally 
free.     A    good   will — ''the    only   thing    which   an 
unsophisticated  man  finds  of  absolute  value  in  the 
world  " — is  a  will  self-determined  by  the  moral  law. 
Here  is  the  supreme  vindication  of  liberty.     But  a 
good  will  is  not  innate.     It  is  acquired.     It  is  the 
fruit  of    victory   over    the    essentially    base    and 
ferocious  promptings  of  self-love:  over  ^' the  flesh 
with  the  affections  and  lusts."     To  keep  in  subjec- 
tion the  lower  self,  the  self  of  the  animal  nature, 
and  to  emancipate  the  higher,  the  rational  self  :  to 
rise   from   the  subjective  to    the   objective —this, 
I  say,  is  the  ethical  freedom,  which  is  our  true  end ; 
and  which  we  can  work  out,  if  we  will.     From  this 
power  of  the  will,  springs  that  moral  responsibility 
which  supplies  the  rationale  of  criminal  justice,  and 
warrants  its  solemn  ceremonial.     This  it  is  which 
compels  us  to  account  of  guilt  as  something  more 
than  disease;    of  punishment   as   something  more 
than  discipline.     This  alone  gives  validity  to  the 
idea  of  Duty,  as  the  paramount  law  of  existence. 
Duty  :  it  is  the  first  word  and  the  last ;  and  the 
most  precious. 

"  Stern  Daughter  of  the  Voice  of  God  ! 
O  Duty  !    if  that  name  thou  love, 
Who  art  a  light  to  guide,  a  rod 
To  check  the  erring  and  reprove : 
Thou,  who  art  victory  and  law 
When  enipty  terrors  overawe  ; 
From  vain  temptations  dost  sot  free  ; 
And  calmest  the  weary  strife  of  frail  humanity  ! 


140 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PUNISHMENT, 


[CH. 


I 


^'  Stern  Lawgiver !  yet  dost  tliou  wear 
The  Godhead's  most  benignant  grace  ; 
Nor  know  we  any  thing  so  fair 
As  is  the  smile  upon  thy  face. 
Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds, 
And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads; 
Thou  dost  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong  ; 
And  the  most  ancient  heavens,  through  thee,  are  fresh 
and  strong." 


♦# 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   ETHICS   OF    POLITICS. 

Is  there  a  right  and  wrong  in  politics  ?     What  is 
the  general  faith  of  the  age  upon  this  question? 
It  is  an  ancient  doctrine,  and  a  wholesome,  that 
faith  is  best  shown  by  works.    Man  acts  because 
he  believes.     We  should  observe  his  deeds   if  we 
want  to  know  his  real  convictions.     Now  is  it  too 
much  to  say  that  the  popular   conception   of   the 
public  order  is  essentially  mechanical?   Mr.  Carlyle, 
whom  I  must  reckon  among  the  seers  of  the  century 
—few  men  have  had  so  clear,  so  piercing  a  vision- 
tells  us,  "  Love  of  country,  in  any  high  or  generous 
sense,  in  any  other  than  an  almost  animal  sense,  or 
mere  habit,  has   little   importance   attached   to  it. 
....  Men  are  to  be  guided  only  by  their  self- 
interests.     Good  government  is  a  good  balancing  of 
these,  and,  except  a  keen  eye  and  appetite  for  self- 
interest,  requires   no  virtue   in   any  quarter.     To 
both  parties  it  is  emphatically  a  machine ;  to  the 
discontented  '  a  taxing  machine,'  to  the  contented 
'  a  machine  for  securing  property.'     Nowhere   is 


I 


142 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS. 


[CH. 


the  deep,  almost  exclusive  faith  we  have  in 
mechanism  more  visible  than  in  the  politics  of 
this  time."*  But  in  mechanism  there  is  no  room 
for  ethics.  How  can  we  predicate  morality  or 
immorality  of  a  machine  ?  And  if  from  the  general 
view  thus  expressed  by  Mr.  Carlyle,  we  descend  to 
particulars,  we  find  abundant  corroboration  of  it  in 
every  department  of  public  life.  Of  international 
politics  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  speak.  Is  not  the 
map  of  Europe  covered  with  torn-up  treaties  ?  Let 
us  look  at  domestic  politics.  How  many  statesmen, 
of  recent  times,  could  be  mentioned,  concerning  whom 
we  could  ask  even  Jewish  x^pella — without  unduly 
taxing  his  credulity — to  believe  that  they  are  guided 
by  ethical  principles?  that,  however  fine  their  phrases, 
they  are  animated  by  any  other  desire  than  the 
love  of  power  and  place  ? 

I  will  take  examples  merely  from  English  poli- 
tical life,  which,  perhaps,  will  compare  favourably 
with  the  public  life  of  any  other  country.  An 
extremely  thoughtful  and  interesting  volume,  by 
the  late  Mr.  Bagehot,  his  Biographical  Studies^ 
supplies  a  very  pregnant  one.  He  is  writing  of 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  wliom  he  inclines  to  consider,  and 
I  think  with  reason,  a  great  political  intellect — an 
intellect  singularly  well  fitted  for  the  perception 
of  truth.  But  what  can  any  impartial  observer  say 
of  Lord  Lyndhurst's  career  ?     It  is  absolutely  im- 

*  .\fisceUaneovfi  E-'isays,  vol.  ii.  pp.  105 — 106. 


VI.] 


F OWE  11  AND  PLACE. 


143 


possible,  Mr.  Bagehot  justly  observes,  that  he  could 
have  believed  in  Toryism,  such  as  Toryism  was  in 
the    second    decade    of    this   century,    '•'  the   most 
stupid,  narrow-minded,  and  suicidal  policy  which 
even  the  Tory  Party  has  ever  adopted."     And  yet 
he   chose,    deliberately    chose,    to    connect  himself 
with  that  policy,  in  1818,  when  its  evil  effects  were 
plainly  visible;  yes,   and  to  become  its  strenuous 
advocate.     But  are  we  to  accuse  him  of  being  false 
to  his  principles  ?     By  no  means.     We  read  in  As 
You  Like  It  of  a  certain  knight  that  "  swore  by 
his  honour  they  were  good  pancakes,  and  swore  by 
his  honour  the  mustard  was  nought."     '^  Now  I'll 
stand  to  it,"  says  Touchstone,  '^  the  pancakes  were 
nought  and   the  mustard  was  good,  and  yet  was 
not  the  knight  forsworn,  swearing  by  his  honour, 
for  he  never  had  any  ;    or  if  he  had,  he  had  sworn 
it   away   before   he  saw   those  pancakes  and  that 
mustard."      The   like    may   be    affirmed   of   Lord 
Lyndhurst's  principles.     He  did  not  act  contrary  to 
them,    for    he    had   none.     Mr.    Bagehot    tells   an 
amusing  story  of  what  he  said  as  to  the  Act  bearing 
his  name,  which  forbids  a  widower  to  marry  the  de- 
ceased wife's  sister.     The  real  object  of  that  enact- 
ment was  to  please  certain  particular  people  who 
had  married  their  sisters-in-law,  and  as  it  stands  to 
this  day,  it  legalises  all  antecedent  marriages.     As 
it  was  originally  brought  in,  it  legalised  subsequent 
marriages  also.     People  conversant  with  the  clergy 
and  other  .strict  people,  represented  to  Lord  Lynd- 


144 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS. 


[CH. 


hurst  that  there  would  be  an  outcry  against  this* 
He  replied,  ^^  Put  it  the  other  way,  then;  forbid 
the  future  marriages.  I  am  sure  I  don't  care  which 
way  it  is."  ''  He  wanted,"  is  Mr.  Bagehot's 
comment,  ''to  serve  a  temi3orary  purpose,  and  so 
he  did  always.  He  regarded  politics  as  a  game  to  be 
played,  first  for  himself,  and  then  for  his  party." 
How  many  men,  prominent  in  English  public  life 
during  the  present  century,  I  ask  again,  can  be 
instanced,  who  did  not  so  regard  it  ?  whose  action 
has  been  determined,  not  by  desire  of  power 
and  place,  but  by  considerations  of  right  and 
wrong  ? 

Can  we  suppose,  for  instance,  that  it  was  an 
ethical  impulse  wliich  led  the  late  Lord  Derby  to 
perform  his  celebrated  feat  of  dishing  the  Wliigs?  Or 
are  we  to  look  upon  Lord  Beaconsfield,  eno-ao-ed  in 
the  long  and  painful  process  of  ''educating"  the 
Conservative  Party,  as  a  moral  teacher?  And  what 
can  we  say  of  Mr.  Gladstone  ?  Is  it  possible,  if 
we  judge  Mr.  Gladstone  by  ordinary  standards, 
to  find  the  smallest  trace  of  ethical  motive  in 
his  policy  since  1885  ?  He  appeals  to  the  country 
to  give  him  a  majority  which  sliall  enable  him 
to  outvote  Conservatives  and  Home  Kulers  to- 
gether, and  to  restore  order  and  safety  in  Ireland. 
Failing  to  obtain  such  a  majority,  he  coalesces 
with  the  Parnellites,  and  is  prepared  to  hand 
over  Ireland  to  them,  as  the  price  of  reoainin^)- 


vi.] 


FABTY  LEADERS. 


145 


power.*  Of  course  we  of  "the  classes"  know  that 
Mr.  Gladstone  must  not  be  judged  by  ordinary 
standards.  We  know  that,  as  Lord  Macaulay  tes- 
tified half  a  century  ago,  his  "  disingenuousness  " 
is  "unconscious"  :  that  ''he  deludes  first  himself,  and 
then  his  hearers  "  :  that  his  apparent  tergiversations 
are  merely  psychological  peculiarities.  But  "  the 
masses  "  are  not  psychologists.  And  when  we  tell 
them  that  Mr.  Gladstone  follows  his  conscience, 
they  incline  to  think  that  he  follows  it  much  as  a 
man  follows  the  horse  which  he  drives.  When 
we  assure  them  that  Mr.  Gladstone  is  honourable 
and  virtuous,  they  inquire  what  honour  and  virtue 
have  to  do  with  public  life.     And  certainly  if  we 

*  It  may  be  worth  while,  here,  to  recall  certain  words  spoken  by 
Mr.  Gladstone  at  Edinburgh,  on  the  eve  of  the  General  Election  of 
1885  : — "Let  me  now  suppose — for  argument's  sake  I  may  suppose 
it  possible — that  the  Liberal  party  might  be  returned  to  the  coming 
Parliament — that  is  rather  a  staggering  supposition,  but  I  beg  you 
to  indulge  me  for  an  instant — might  be  returned  to  the  coming 
Parliament  in  a  minority,  but  in  a,  minority  which  might  become  a 
majority  by  the  aid  of  the  Irish  vote;  and  I  will  suppose  that  owing 
to  some  cause  the  present  Government  has  disappeared,  and  a 
Liberal  party  was  called  to  deal  with  this  great  constitutional 
question  of  the  government  of  Ireland  in  a  position  where  it  was 
a  minority  dependent  on  the  Irish  vote  for  converting  it  into  a 
majority.  Now,  gentlemen,  I  tell  you  seriously  and  solemnly,  that 
though  I  believe  the  Liberal  party  to  be  honourable,  i)atriotic,  and 
trustworthy,  in  such  a  position  as  that  it  would  not  be  safe  for  it  to 
enter  on  the  consideration  of  a  measure  in  respect  to  which,  at  the 
first  step  of  its  progress,  it  would  be  in  the  power  of  a  party  coming 
from  Ireland  to  say  '  Unless  you  do  this  and  unless  you  do  that  we 
will  turn  you  out  to-morrow.'  " — Times ,  10th  November,  1885. 


146 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS. 


[CH. 


think  of  the  elaborate  misstatements  of  facts,  the 
frantic  appeals  to  the  worst  of  popular  passions,  tlie 
scarcely  veiled  apologies  for  the  basest  and  most 
cowardly  crimes,  which  have  been  such  prominent 
features  of  recent  political  oratory  in  this  country, 
the  question  is  naturally  suggested  whether  ethics 
have  any  place  at  all  in  politics. 

An    English    diplomatist,    holding    a    very  im- 
portant   position,    shall    help    us    to    answer    that 
question.     On  the   9th    of  November,  1888,  Lord 
Lytton,  upon  liis  installation  as  Rector  of  Glasgow 
University,  delivered  an  address  ''  On  the  morality 
proper  to  the  conduct  of  nations,  as  compared  with 
individuals,  in    their    relations   with    each    other." 
Lord  Lytton,  I  take  it,  did  not  profess  to  speak  as 
a  philosopher.     And   that  renders  him  peculiarly 
valuable  as  a  witness  for  my  purpose.      He   is  a 
brilliant    litterateur   and  an  accomplished  man  of 
the  world.     He  is  therefore  a  fitting  exponent  of 
popular  feeling.     His  object,  he  told  his  audience, 
was  to  contribute,  if  possible,  toward  the  discussion 
of  the  question.  Is  morality  the  same  for  nations  as 
for  individuals  ?     It  is  rot  necessary  to  follow  his 
extremely   discursive   argument,    which    extended 
through  three  closely-printed  columns  of  the  Times, 
I  will  here  merely  state  his  conclusions,  which  are 
these:  that  pubHc    morals  are  a  branch  rather  of 
prudence    than    of     morals,    properly    so    called, 
'^  because  there  is  no  sanction  of  public  morality." 


. 


L 


VI.] 


"  TWO  SORTS  OF  JUSTICE:' 


147 


'^A  law   which  does  not  coerce,  is  not  a  law  at 
all.     It  is  at  best  a  counsel  or  advice.     The  same  is 
true  of  moral  rules,  when  the  breacli  of  them  is  not 
followed    by    public    ill-will    or   private   remorse." 
Remarking,   in   passing,    upon  the  curious  signifi- 
cance   of    the    doctrine,    that  the   morality   of   an 
ethical   rule  lies  in  the  public    ill-will  or   private 
remorse  thereby  excited,  let  me  note  Lord  Lytton's 
admission  that  ''  individuals  concerned  in  the  con- 
duct of  public  affairs  are  subject  to  the  same  moral 
duties  to  each  other  which  regulate  the  conduct  of 
private  aff'airs.     But,"  he  adds,  ''  of  the  classes  of 
obligations  which  constitute   private   morals,  only 
one,  namely  justice,  has  a  place  in  public  morals  at 
all.     And  the  sort  of  justice  which  finds  place  in 
public  morals  is  totally  diff'erent  from  the  justice 
which  relates  to  individuals ;  it  consists  mainly  in 
moderation  and   kindly   prudence."      Such   is   the 
guidance   which   the  newly-elected  Rector  of   the 
University  of  Glasgow  offered  to   its  students  on 
this  weighty  matter,  amid  ^^the  loud  applause  and 
aves   vehement"    of   his  hearers,  and— unless  my 
memory  is  at  fault— with  the  ''  Macie  virtute  esto  " 
of  the  newspapers  generally.     It  would  be  interest- 
ing  to  know  what  Principal  Caird,  who  was  in  tlie 
cliair,  thought  of  it.     Without,  however,  speculating 
on  that  subject,  let  us  observe  tliat  Lord  Lytton 
answers  with  an  unqualified  negative  the  question 
which  he  proposes.     Morality,  he  holds,  is  not  the 
same  for   nations   as   for    individuals.     It   has   no 

l2 


14« 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS, 


[CH. 


application  to  nations  save  in  the  form  of  justice. 
And  justice  in  the  public  order  means  something 
quite  different  from  what  it  means  in  private  life. 
Justice— which  Aristotle  considered  to  embrace  all 
virtue-means  for  nations  merely  ''  moderation  and 
kmdiy  prudence."     It  is  true  that  Lord  Lytton  is 
speaking  primarily  of  international  relations.     But 
the  principles  which  he  lays  down  are  general,  and 
api)Iy   to   the   public   order  in   all   respects.     The 
difference  between  nations  and  individuals  is,  he 
holds,  so  great -this  is  the  foundation  of  his  whole 
argument-that    the   same   rules   of    morality   are 
inapplicable  to  both.     Public  morality  he  considers 
a  branch  of  prudence.     But  what  does  this  really 
mean  ?  "^ 

_  What,  if  we  examine  it  closely,  does  this  pruden- 
tial  rule  of  right  and  wrong  in  politics  amount  to  '^ 
Is  It,  in  the  long  run,  anytliing  else  than  respect  for  " 
force  ?     It  IS   the  teaching  of  Hobbes,  that  right 
and  wrong,  justice  and  injustice,  are  purely  rela- 
tive;  that   these  bonds,    as   he  calls  them,   "have 
their  strength,  not  from  their  own  nature,  but  from 
the  fear  of  evil  consequences  upon  their  rupture  " 
Such,  too,  was  the  doctrine  of  the  first  Napoleon  • 
"  On  ne  pent  agir  sur  les  peuples  tres  civilises,  ni 
par  les  sentiments  gen^reux,  qui  se  perdent  avec  la 
rehgion  et  la  morale  publique,  ni  par  les  illusions 
que   les  lumieres  dissipent;    ils  ne  sauraient  etre 
gouvernes  que  par  une  autorite  dont  la  force  est 
evidente  et  presente."  And  his  practical  conclusion 


T..] 


"ESTABLISHED  FACTS." 


149 


was    'Wath  the  armies  of  France  at   my  back,    I 
shal_   be   always    in    the    right."      He    respected 
nothing   but   material   force.     That,  for  him,  was 
the    supreme   authority.      The    notion    of    public 
virtues  and  of  public  crimes  had  no  place  fn  his 
niind.     What  were  called  such,  were  to  him  merely 
iacts,  governed   by  physical  laws,   and   absolutely 
void  of   ethical  significance.     And  here  ho  is  the 
true  type  of  the  century.     Respect  for  "  established 
facts  -  -that  is  the  favourite   phrase- without  the 
least  regard  to  their  moral  aspect,  is  precisely  one 
ot  the  most  notable  signs  of  the  times.     Whence 
do  our  public  men,  in  democratic   countries-and 
.all  countries  are  becoming  democratic-profess  to 
derive    their    rules    of   conduct  ?     From   what   is 
called   pubhc  opinion.     And  what  is  an  appeal  to 
public  opinion  but  an  appeal  to  force  ?     In  a  demo- 
cratic  country  power  is  split  into  a  vast   number 
of  pieces.     The  practical  result  of  universal  suffrao-e 
IS  that  the  politician  who  most  successfully  manipu- 
lates the  macliine,  gathers  into  his  own  hands  the 
greatest  number  of  pieces.     The  sovereignty  of  the 
masses -not  the  sovereignty  of  the  people,  which 
IS  a  very  different  thing-represents  in  the  public 
order  exactly  the  same  principle  as  fesarism  ;  the 
domination  of  material  force,  not  of  the  moral  idea 
rhe   special   kind  of  force   now  dominant   is   the 
force  of  numbers,  disguised  as  public  opinion.     The 
political  faith  of  the  day  is  that  what  the  numerical 
majority-miscalled  the  people-wills  is  just;  that 


150 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS. 


[CH. 


it  is  possible  to  determine  what  is  right  and  wrong 
in  the  public  order  by  counting  heads.     That  is  the 
ultimate  principle  of  public  action  ever  more  and 
more  widely  accepted,  and  the  practical  result  of  it 
is,   in   Plato's    phrase,     ''to   make    of    justice   the 
interest  of  the  stronger."     No  absolute  rule  of  right 
and    wrong    is    admitted.      All    is    relative.      No 
homage   is    paid   to   social    truths  and   principles, 
eternal,  immutable,  paramount,  against  which  the 
voice  of  the  largest  and  loudest  multitude  should  be 
powerless.      I    think    it   was    Goethe  —  or   was   it 
Heine? — who    represented   the   first   Napoleon   as 
saying  to   the  French  nation,   ''Thou   shalt   have 
none  other  gods  but  me."     That  is  precisely  the 
claim    which    is   now    made    on    behalf    of    "  the 
people."     "  Political  philosophy,"  the  late  ]\I.  Gam- 
betta  insisted  in  a  famous  speech,  ''  demands  that 
the   people   be    considered    as   the   exclusive,    the 
perennial  source  of  all  powers,  of  all  rights.     The 
will  of  the  people  must  have  the  last  word.     All 
must  bow  before  it."     This  doctrine,  that  the  ever- 
shifting  will  of  the  masses  is  the  very  source  and 
fount  of  right,  of  law,  of  justice,  is  tlie  expression, 
in  the  public  order,  of  the  philosophy  of  relativity. 
And  here,  as  in  every  other  sphere,  the  effect  of 
that  philosophy  is  to  derationalise,  to  demoralise, 
to  dissolve,  and  to  destroy.     I  do  not  use  these 
words  at  random.     It  derationalises,  for  it  is  fatal 
to  the  belief   that  reason  pervades  the   universe ; 
reason    means  something  self-identical   and   inde- 


VI.] 


'^  THE  PEOPLE''  AS  DEITY, 


151 


>  ■• 


i^ 


pendent.  It  demoralises,  for  morality,  if  not  abso- 
lute, is  nothing.  It  dissolves,  for  the  bonds  of 
society  are  ethical.  It  destroys,  for  if  those  bonds 
are  loosed,  fall  tlie  social  system  must.  Right  and 
wrong  the  product  of  ballot  boxes  !  The  infalli- 
.  bility  of  public  opinion  !  "Vox  populi.  Vox  Dei  ! " 
What  theses!  "To  worship  force,"  Dr.  Arnold 
well  observed,  "  is  devil-worship."  And  the  brute 
force  of  numbers,  blinded  by  ignorance  and  mad- 
dened by  passion— surely  it  is  a  very  poor  kind  of 
devil.  Is  any  lower  form  of  idolatry  conceiv- 
able ?  I,  for  my  part,  say  with  Quinet :  "  M'age- 
nouiller  devant  celui  qui  est  a  deux  genoux  devant 
toute  force  triomphante  !  Ramper  devant  cette 
bete  rampante  aux  milliards  de  pieds  !  Ce  n'est 
pas  111  ma  foi.  Que  ferai-je  de  ce  dieu-la?  0 
le  curieux  fetiche  !  Je  Tai  vu  de  trop  pres."  No. 
If  I  am  to  have  a  god  at  all,  it  must  be  a  very 
different  sort  of  deity  from  that.  If  I  am  to  hold 
any  conceptions  of  right  and  wrong,  they  must  come 
to  me  from  quite  another  source.  I  will  endeavour 
to  indicate  a  more  excellent  way. 

The  whole  question  turns  upon  this  :  Is  there  an 
absolute  standard  of  right  and  wrong  ruling 
throughout  the  universe  ?  I  have  sought  to  show, 
in  an  earlier  portion  of  this  work,  that  there  is. 
The  immutably  true  in  morals  is  that  which  is  in 
harmony   with   the   faculties   proper   to   man,   the 


152 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS, 


[CH. 


faculties  which  he  has  in  common  with  the  lower 
animals  being  held  in  subjection.  Hence  the  old 
Stoic  formula,  "  to  live  according  to  reason  " — and 
the  world  is  not  likely  to  get  beyond  it — to  lot 
reason,  not  passion,  rule  our  lives.  And  it  applies 
to  every  department  of  human  life,  to  every  sphere 
of  human  activity,  to  the  aggregate  of  men  which 
we  call  a  nation,  as  to  the  individual  persons  con- 
stituting that  aggregate.  Civilisation  is  first  and 
before  all  things  ethical.  Not  literature,  not  art, 
not  science,  not  commerce  and  manufactures,  not 
the  soldier  and  the  policeman,  but  morality,  is  its 
foundation.  Truth  and  right  are  the  very  breath 
of  life  to  states,  as  to  individual  men.  ''  The  moral 
laws  of  nature  "  are  the  moral  laws  of  nations  too. 
Law  is  the  principle  of  obligation.  What  is  the 
primordial  law  ?  Wliat  is  the  universal  principle 
of  obligation  ?  I  say  it  is  to  follow  that  whicli 
reason,  speaking  through  conscience,  dictates  as 
right.  This  is  the  one  true  rule  of  public  as  of 
private  life.     Let  us  consider  it  a  little. 

Why  and  how  far  ought  I  to  obey  the  laws  of  the 
civil  society,  tlie  nation,  of  which  I  am  a  member  ? 
To  answer  this  question  we  must  ask  another. 
What  is  the  true  end  of  civil  society  ?  We  cannot 
reply  better  than  in  the  words  of  Aristotle:  ^^  Not 
merely  existence,  but  worthy  existence,  is  tlie  end 
of  civil  society."  Worthy  or  noble  existence.  An 
existence  which  permits  each  man  to  be  as  fully 
himself  as  possible,  or,  in  Spinoza's  words,  to  de- 


VI.] 


THE  TRUE  SOCIAL  THEORY. 


153 


velop  in  security  soul  and  body  and  to  make  free 
use  of  his  reason.     A  man  is  a  person,  not  a  thing- 
'^  The  sacred  distinction  between  person  and  thing," 
Coleridge  well  observes,  ^'  is  the  light  and  life  of  all 
law,  human  and  divine."     Here,  as  everywhere  else, 
we   are   thrown   back   upon  the  elemental  fact  of 
human  personality,  which  is  the  primordial  source 
of  the  rights  realised  in  civil  polity.     The  office  of 
positive  law  is  to  guard  those  rights.     It  is  the  rule 
of  reciprocal  liberty,  the  tutor  of  the  natural  rights 
of  the  individual  which  are  the  rule  of  his  liberty, 
The  idea  of  personality  is  limited  by  the  idea  of 
solidarity.     In  the  true  social  theory  these  ideas  are 
reconciled,  not  abolished.     But  as  Professor  Green 
excellently  says,  ''all  rights  are  relative  to  moral  ends 
or  duties."     The  claim  or  right  of  the  individual  to 
have  certain  powers  secured  to  him  by  society,  and 
the   counter   claim   of    society  to  exercise  certain 
powers  over  individuals,  alike  rest  on  the  fact  that 
these   powers  are    necessary  to  the  fulfilment   of 
man's  vocation  as  a  moral  being,  to  an  effective 
self-devotion  to  the  work  of  developing  the  perfect 
character  in  himself  and  others.     Therefore,  it  is 
not  too  much  to  assert  that  politics  ought  to  be  con- 
ceived of  as  a  branch  of  ethics.     ''  The  discussion 
of  virtue  is  the  province  of  political  science,"  Avrites 
the  greatest  master  of  that  science  the  world  has 
ever  seen.     The  end  of  the  social  organism,  like  the 
end  of  the  individual  organism,  is  freedom.     And 
the  only  instrument  of  freedom  is  the  moral  law. 


15-i 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS, 


[CH. 


Kant  maintained  tlie  absolute  identity  of  the  two 
termsj  liberty  and  morality ;  and  we  may  accept 
that  doctrine  in  the  widest  sense.  Justice  should 
rule  alike  in  the  actions  of  the  individual  man,  and 
of  the  af2:2:reo:ate  of  individual  men  which  we  call  a 
nation.  The  jmblic  conscience  should  dominate 
customs,  legislation,  diplomacy,  just  as  the  personal 
conscience  should  dominate  the  thoughts,  words, 
and  works  of  every  man.  Face  Lord  Lytton,  there 
are  not  two  kinds  of  justic3  ;  there  is  only  one  kind. 
Nor  is  justice  in  the  public  order  merely  '*  moderation 
and  kindly  prudence."  There  is  one  law  of  Right 
ruling  throughout  the  universe,  absolute,  eternal, 
unchangeable.  In  obedience  to  it  alone  is  liberty. 
To  resist  it  is  to  fight  against  the  nature  of  things, 
and  that  is  certain  defeat  and  captivity.  ''  The  sen- 
sual and  the  dark  rebel  in  vain  ;  slaves  by  their  own 
compulsion." 


Here,  then,  is  the  true  ground  why  tlie  laws  of 
the  civil  society  in  which  I  live  have  a  rightful 
claim  on  my  obedience.  The  ideal  of  the  State 
is  that  it  should  be  ^Hhe  passionless  expression 
of  general  right."  And  if  this  is  so,  the  limit  of 
the  claim  of  the  State  to  my  obedience  is  clear  also. 
The  organ  of  the  moral  law,  speaking  to  me  directly 
and  categorically,  is  conscience.  The  first  principle 
of  a  man's  ethical  life  is  '^  to  reverence  his  conscience 
as  his  king."     If  the  law  formulated  by  the  com- 


VI.] 


REASON  AND   LAW. 


155 


munity  conflicts  with  the  law  within,  it  must  be 
disobeyed,  except  indeed  when  the  maxim   '^De 
minimis  non   curat   lex,"   applies.      For   that   law 
which  is  not  guided  by  reason,  is,   as  Aquinas  ex- 
presses it,  ''  rather  an  iniquity  than  a  law."    Law  in 
ethics — in  physics  the  word  has  another  meaning— 
prescribes  what  ought  to  be  done.     Now  there  is 
only   one   ought.     Speaking  generally,  it  may   be 
said  that  a  bad  law  should  be  obeyed,  unless  it  con- 
flicts with  those  dictates  of  conscience  which  a  man 
must  follow  under  pain  of  grievous  injury  to  his 
ethical  life.     It  is  "  great  harm  to  disobey,  seeing 
obedience  is  the  bond  of  rule  ;  "  the  condition  of  the 
existence  of  the  social  organism.     But  the  end  of 
that  organism  is  the  moral  perfection  of  the  indi- 
vidual.    And  no  one  is  bound  to  obey  a  law  which 
involves    the    sacrifice    of    his    moral    perfection. 
''Whether   it  be   better   in    the    sight   of   God  to 
hearken  unto  you  more  than  unto  God,  judge  ye," 
said    St.   Peter  and  St.  John  to  the  rulers  of  the 
people  who  commanded   them   ^^not  to    speak    or 
teach  at  all  in  the  name  of  Jesus."     And  so  Anti- 
gone, in  the  noblest  utterance,  perhaps,  of  Greek 
tragedy,  when  confronted  with  Kreon  for  disobey- 
ing his  decree  : 

"  It  was  not  Zens  who  lieraldecl  these  words, 
Nor  Justice,  helpmeet  of  the  Gods  below. 
'Twas  they  who  ratified  those  other  laws, 
And  set  their  record  in  the  hnman  heart. 
Nor  do  I  deem  thy  heraldiiigs  so  mighty, 
That  thou,  a  mortal  man,  couldst  trample  on 


156  THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS.  [ch. 

The  unwritten  and  unchanging  laws  ot*  heaven. 

They  are  not  of  to-day,  or  yesterday, 

But  ever  live,  and  no  one  knows  their  birth -tide, 

These  for  tlie  dread  of  any  liunian  anger, 

I  was  not  minded  to  annul  and  so 

Incur  the  punishment  that  heaven  exacts."* 

I  say,  then,  that  at  the  root  of  the  laws  of  a 
nation  lies  conscience.  They  are  judgments  of 
riglit  and  wrong.  They  are  essentially  derivative. 
They  owe  their  majesty,  their  life,  to  the  eternal 
truths  of  morals,  of  which  they  are  the  transient 
settings.  They  are,  as  Plato,  taught,  adaptations 
to  social  wants  of  that  Universal  Reason,  which  is 
the  Supreme  Rule  of  Ethics :  supreme  over  nations, 
as  over  the  individuals  of  whom  nations  are  com- 
posed :  and  no  more  to  be  violated  by  nations  than 
y  individuals  without  incurring  the  retribution 
which  is  "  the  other  half  of  crime";  its  natural 
and  necessary  complement.  St.  Paul,  upon  a 
certain  memorable  occasion,  reasoned  before  the 
trembling  Roman  governor  of  ''  righteousness, 
temperance — and  judgment  to  come."  The  judg- 
ment does  come.  "  Rarely,"  sings  the  Latin 
poet,  "  has  punishment  lost  sight  of  the  criminal, 
slow  though  her  foot  be."  Rarely  ?  Never.  Dark 
as  are  the  ways  of  that  Eternal  Justice  which  rules 
the  world,  we  can  see  enough  of  them  to  be  sure  of 
that.     And  the  longer  the  penalty  is  deferred,  the 

*  Antigone,  v.  448-458.  I  need  hardly  observe  how  inadequately 
the  power  and  beauty  of  the  original  are  represented  by  this  trans- 
lation of  Dr.  Donaldson's,  excellent  as  it  is. 


VI.] 


OMNES    VI.E  EJUS  JUDICIA, 


157 


worse  for  the  people  which  has  to  pay  it;  for  it 
accumulates  at  compound  interest.  Examples  ? 
Wliy  history  is  full  of  them.  Consider  Spain,  once 
the  first  of  Christian  nations,  and  now  the  lowest. 
Why  ?  Look  at  the  Spanish  Inquisition,  said  Mon- 
talembertj  and  you  have  the  answer.  For  more 
than  three  centuries  the  Inquisition  had  been  the 
scourge  of  Spain,  and  at  the  same  time  the  object 
of  the  just  horror  of  the  Christian  world  —  of 
France,  of  Belgium,  and  of  Catholic  Germany,  no 
less  than  of  all  Protestant  nations.  The  soul  of 
Spain  was  petrified  in  the  bloody  hands  of  Philip  II. ; 
autos  dafe  made  an  end  of  it.  Vengeance  had  not 
long  to  wait.  One  hundred  years  after  the  acces- 
sion of  Charles  V.,  the  Duke  d'Olivarez,  first 
minister  and  chief  favourite  of  Philip  IV.,  wrote  to 
the  Infant  Cardinal  who  governed  Belgium  on  be- 
half of  Spain  :  '^  My  Lord,  there  are  no  more  men. 
There  are  really  no  more.  We  have  sought  every- 
where and  have  found  none."  No  more  men !  The 
manhood  of  this  noble  people  extinct !  Or  look  at 
France,  with  its  prevailing  atheism  decreeing  injus- 
tice as  a  law ;  its  domestic  virtue  sapped  by  its 
popular  literature  of  lubricity  ;  its  high  places  the 
prey  of  the  most  ignoble  demagogues ;  all  classes 
in  antagonism ;  all  social  bands  loosened ;  popular 
passions — ''passions  de la  cervelle  et  de I'estomac " —  V 
the  only  effective  power  left.  Tliat  is  the  practical 
consequence  of  the  substitution  of  the  gospel  of 
Jean-Jacques    Rousseau   for   the   gospel    of    Jesus 


1 


158 


THE  ETHICS  OF  POLITICS. 


[cii. 


Christ ;  of  the  elevation  of  concupiscence — aptly 
symbolised  by  the  Goddess  of  Reason— into  the 
place  of  conscience ;  of  the  "  dumb-buzzard  idol " 
Man  in  the  abstract,  and  his  sophistical  "rij^hts," 
into  the  place  of  the  living  God  and  the  duties 
binding  us  to  Him.  Or  England;  alas!  can  any 
man  whose  moral  sense  is  not  hopelessly  blunted, 
doubt  that  she  will  have  to  pay,  to  the  uttermost 
farthing,  the  penalty  of  her  centuries  of  tyrannical 
oppression  and  remorseless  cruelty  in  Ireland? 
Has  not  the  reckoning  already  begun  ?  And  who 
can  predict  where  it  will  end  ?  Yes.  Well  did  our 
Elizabethan  poet  write : 

"  Stern  and  imperious  Xemesis  ! 
Dangliter  of  Justice  most  severe, 
Tliou  art  the  v/orld's  great  arbitress, 
And  queen  of  causes  reigning  here, 
Whose  swift,  sure  liand  is  ever  near." 

So  much  must  suffice  on  this  great  topic.  To 
many,  I  fear,  my  words  will  seem  mere  midsummer 
madness.  I  am  profoundly  convinced  that  unless 
philosophy  is  a  dream,  and  history  a  lie,  they  are  the 
words  of  truth  and  soberness.  And,  I  venture  to 
say,  the  more  they  are  pondered  by  men  of  good 
will,  the  better  for  them  and  for  the  age  in  which 
we  live.  It  was  well  observed  by  one  of  these,  the 
late  Frederick  Denison  Maurice:  '^  The  moralist 
never  maintains  his  own  position  so  well  as  when 
he  asserts  the  highest  dignity  for  the  politician. 
The  separation  between  the  two  has  been  an  intoler- 
able mischief." 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE   ETHICS   OF   JOURNALISM. 


Half  a  century  ago  a  brilliant  French  writer, 
now  perhaps  as  much  underrated  as  then  over- 
valued, warned  the  world  :  ''  Europe  is  hastening 
toward  Democracy  ;  the  symptoms  of  the  social 
transformation  abound ;  the  ancient  society  is 
perishing  with  the  social  order  out  of  which  it  has 
come."  Time  has  amply  justified  these  words  of 
Chateaubriand.  Democracy  is  the  dominant  fact  of 
modern  civilisation,  all-invading,  all-penetrating, 
remaking  the  nations  by  equality  of  rights  and  the 
power  of  numbers.  There  are,  of  course,  different 
types  of  Democracy,  *  the  difference  being  due, 
chiefly,  to  national  temperament  and  national 
history.  But  whatever  the  varieties  of  its  form,  it 
everywhere  means  the  advent  of  the  masses  to 
political  power.  To  the  decision  of  the  numerical 
majority  is  the  ultimate  appeal,  whether  that  appeal 
be  made  directly,  by  plebiscite  or  refere7idum^  or 
indirectly,  by  means  of  a  general  election.  Demos 
is   kin  or.      How    will   he   rule  ?      ''  Power    which 

o 

*  I  liavc  treated  this  subject   at   some   length   in  chap.  vi.  of 
A  Century  of  Eei'olution. 


160 


THE  ETHICS  OF  JOUBNALISM. 


[CH. 


vii.]  THE  TEACHERS  OF'' THE  SO  VEBEIGNFEOFLEr  16 1 


wisdom  does  not  guide,  falls,  overweighted,  in  ruin 
to  the  ground,"  the  Roman  poet  warns  us  — ''A^is 
eonsili  expers  mole  ruit  sua."  Who  shall  teach  the 
sovereign  people  in  the  way  of  wisdom?  Who  shall 
lead  it  in  right  paths  ? 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  enlarge  upon  the  many- 
headed  ruler's  need  of  such  teaching,  such  leading. 
What  can  the  average  voter,  his  life  probably 
spent  in  manual  toil,  know,  by  his  own  research 
and  meditation,  concerning  the  vast  social  and 
political  questions  which  he  is  called  to  decide  ? 
"Most  men,"  Napoleon  judged,  ^^  are  grown-up 
children."  ''  One  or  two  rules,"  says  Locke,  ''upon 
which  their  conclusions  depend,  in  most  men  have 
governed  all  their  thoughts.  Take  these  away 
from  them,  and  their  understanding  is  completely 
at  a  nonplus."  But  manifestly  those  rules  do  not 
extend  to  complicated  and  far-reaching  issues  of 
legislation  and  diplomacy.  Let  us  cheerfully 
admit  that  the  majority  of  men  apply  a  fair  amount 
of  f]:ood  sense  and  rio-ht  motive  to  the  business  of 
the  world  ;  nay,  that  mankind,  as  a  whole,  makes 
proof  of  virtues  over  and  above  those  ''  essential 
for  digesting  victuals,"  and  merits  a  certain  amount 
of  admiration ;  let  us,  if  y(;u  like,  agree  with  Mr. 
Gladstone — although  the  phrase  is  redolent  of  clap- 
trap—that ''trust  of  the  people,  tempered  by 
prudence,"  is  the  i)rinciple  which  should  guide  the 
statesman.  Still  it  remains  that  the  appeal  to  the 
masses  on  grave  political  questions  is,  and  must  be, 


./ 


an  appeal  to  ^^the  yea  and  no  of  general  ignorance." 
The  science  of  politics,  to  say  the  least,  is  as 
difficult  a  branch  of  learning  as  the  science  of 
anatomy.  It  demands  special  study,  and  the 
mental  discipline  and  leisure  necessary  for  special 
study.  There  is  no  problem  of  internal  administra- 
tion, of  foreign  policy,  which  can  be  even  so  much 
as  intelligently  appreciated  without  a  considerable 
knowledge  of  history  and  political  philosophy.  It 
is  impossible  for  the  numerical  majority,  in  any 
country,  to  comprehend,  by  their  own  wit  and  labour, 
the  elements  of  tliose  problems.  They  are  like  that 
eunuch  of  great  authority  under  Candace,  Queen  of 
the  Ethiopians,  whom  Philip  the  Deacon  heard  read 
in  his  chariot  the  Prophet  Isaias,  and  asked,  "  Un- 
derstandest  thou  what  thou  readest  ?  "  and  he  said, 
"  How  can  I,  except  some  man  should  guide  me  ?  " 
How  indeed !  But  who  shall  guide  the  sovereign 
people  to  understand  matters  of  State,  beside  which 
even  the  utterances  of  the  evangelical  prophet  are 
plain  and  simple  ? 

The  newspaper  press  undertakes  that  office.  Our 
journals  are  the  guides,  philosophers,  and  friends 
of  the  masses,  teaching  them  what  they  suppose 
themselves  to  think  on  well-nigh  all  subjects.  For 
the  great  majority  of  men,  I  say,  their  newspapers 
— they  seldom  read  anything  else — are  the  direct 
sources  of  those  floating  opinions  which  have  drifted 
into  their  minds,  whereby  they  judge  all  social  and 
political  problems.     Our  journalists  have  succeeded 

M 


162 


THE  ETHICS  OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


to  an  important  portion  of  the  functions  wliich  in 
past  days  were  discharged  by  the  clergy.  Now, 
the  preacher  is  generally  required  to  restrict  his 
teaching  to  matters  of  religion.  The  pulpit  has 
been  obliged  to  resign  to  the  press  the  instruction 
of  the  people  in  secular  affairs.  Mr.  Carlyle  well  puts 
it :  '^  The  true  Church  of  England,  at  this  moment, 
lies  in  the  Editors  of  its  Newspapers.  These  j^reach 
to  the  people  daily,  weekly ;  admonishing  kings 
themselves,  advising  peace  or  war  with  an  authority 
which  only  the  first  Eeformers,  and  a  long-past 
class  of  Popes  were  possessed  of ;  inflicting  moral 
censure,  imparting  moral  encouragement^  in  all 
ways  diligently  administering  the  Discipline  of  the 
Church."  *  A  weighty  function,  truly,  and  of  the 
utmost  moment  to  the  interests  of  society ;  the 
august  function  which  in  the  old  Jewish  theocracy 
was  performed  by  the  prophets.  Let  us  consider 
it  a  little  from  an  ethical  point  of  view.  What 
are  the  rights  and  duties  appertaining  to  it  ? 


The  rights  of  the  journalist  may  be  shortly 
summed  up  in  the  familiar  phrase,  '^tlie  liberty 
of  the  press."  He  may  properly  claim  full  free- 
dom— '^  as  large  a  charter  as  the  wind."  ''  By 
liberty  of  the  press,"  said  Mr.  Justice  Fitzgerald, 
"  I  mean  complete  freedom  to  write  and  publisli, 
without   censorship   and    Avithout   restriction,  save 

*  Miscellanies^  vol.  ii.  p.  114. 


VII.] 


THE  BIGHTS  OF  THE  JOURNALIST. 


163 


such  as  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  preservation 
of  society."  Censorship  is,  indeed,  as  antiquated 
as  mail-armour.  That  ^'liberty  to  know,  to  utter 
and  to  argue  freely,  according  to  conscience," 
which  Milton  prized  "above  all  liberties,"  is  an 
assured  conquest  of  the  modern  mind ;  its  only 
restriction,  as  Mr.  Justice  Fitzgerald  indicates, 
"  such  as  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  society."  And  to  that  restriction  who 
can  take  exception  ?  Is  it  possible  rationally  to 
claim  for  every  man  a  liberty  of  printing  every- 
thing that  he  likes,  not  merely  '^  according  to  con- 
science," but  according  to  passion — everything, 
however  obscene,  seditious,  libellous  ?  That  is  the 
liberty  to  which  the  late  Pope  assigned  a  place  in 
his  Syllabus  JErroriim  —  List  or  Catalogue  of 
Errors;  that  ''plena  potestas  omnibus  attributa 
quaslibet  opiniones  cogitationesque  palam  publice- 
que  manifestandi  " — the  liberty  claimed  for  every 
one  to  declare  openly  and  publicly  any  opinions 
and  thoughts  whatever.  Cardinal  Newman  has 
well  observed  that  it  seems  a  light  epithet  to 
call  such  a  doctrine  a  deliramentum ;  that  ''  of  all 
conceivable  absurdities  it  is  the  wildest  and  most 
stupid."  "  Est  modus  in  rebus,  sunt  certi  denique 
fines."  Liberty  of  the  press,  like  all  liberties,  is 
grounded  in  that  faculty  of  reason  whence  springs 
free  agency.  It  is  essentially  ethical.  Law  is  the 
inseparable  condition  of  its  right  use.  It  is  perhaps 
necessary  to  insist  upon  this.     For  to  man}^  well- 

M  2 


164 


THU  ETHICS   OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


meaning  people  the  printing  press  is  a  sort  of 
fetich.  The  printing  press  is  really  no  more  than 
an  admirable  mechanical  invention  for  propagating 
speech  and  writing.  The  fact  that  a  man  employs 
it,  does  not  in  i\\Q  least  relieve  him  from  the  duties 
and  responsibilities  attending  the  communication 
of  thought.  On  the  contrary,  the  vast  reverberation 
Avhich  he  thus  obtains,  makes  those  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities all  the  more  onerous.  The  journalist 
is  just  as  much  under  tlie  moral  law  in  the  exercise 
of  his  profession,  as  in  the  most  personal  actions  of 
private  life.  Surely  so  much  is  clear.  The  liberty 
of  the  press,  like  all  liberty,  means  action  within 
the  great  principles  of  ethics,  not  emancipation 
from  them. 

Such  is  the  true  conception  of  the  liberty  of  the 
press,  well  reckoned  by  Junius  '^  the  palladium  of  all 
civil,  political,  and  religious  rights,"  the  chief  bul- 
wark of  all  liberty.  Journalism  should  be  the  prin- 
cipal instrument  of  publicit}^,  that  greatest  terror  to 
evil-doers ;  the  most  energetic  mode  of  resistance  to 
tyranny,  because  its  protest  is  perpetual ;  the  most 
noble,  because  its  force  lies  in  the  moral  conscious-- 
ness  of  men ;  and  therefore  the  most  effective 
auxiliary  of  truth  and  justice.  It  would  be  easy 
to  accumulate  the  w^ords  of  the  wise  in  this  sense. 
But  it  is  hardly  necessary.  The  matter  is  too  plain. 
There  is,  however,  a  fine  passage  in  a  great  speech 
made  by  an  illustrious  advocate,  upon  a  memorable 
occasion,  which  admirabl}'  states  the  true  basis   of 


VII.] 


TEE  DUTY  OF  THE  JOURNALIST. 


165 


the  liberty  of  the  press,  and  which,  for  a  special 
reason,  I  shall  cite. 

"  Every  man,"  said  Erskine  in  his  argument  at  the  trial  of 
Paine,  "not  intending  to  mislead,  but  seeking  to  enlighten 
others  with  what  his  own  reason  and  conscience,  however 
erroneously,  have  dictated  to  him  as  truth,  may  address  himself 
to  the  universal  intelligence  of  a  whole  nation,  either  upon  the 
subject  of  governments  in  general,  or  upon  that  of  his  own 
individual  country.  He  may  analyse  the  principles  of  its 
constitution,  point  out  its  errors  and  defects,  examine  and 
publish  its  corruptions,  warn  his  fellow-citizens  against  their 
ruinous  consequences,  and  exert  his  whole  faculties  in  pointing 
out  the  most  advantageous  changes  in  establishments  which  he 
considers  to  be  radically  defective  or  sliding  from  their  object 
by  abuse.  All  this  every  subject  of  this  country  has  a  right  to 
do,  if  he  contemplates  only  what  he  thinks  would  be  for  its 
advantage,  and  but  seeks  to  change  the  public  mind  by  the 
conviction  Avhich  flows  from  reasonings  dictated  by  conscience." 

This,  then,  is  the  liberty  which  the  journalist 
may  rightly  claim:  liberty  to  state  facts,  liberty 
to  argue  upon  them,  liberty  to  denounce  abuses, 
liberty  to  advocate  reforms.  This  is  his  right. 
What  is  the  corresponding  duty?  It  is  clearly 
indicated  in  Lord  Erskine's  words:  ^^  Every  man 
seeking  to  enlighten  others  with  what  his  own 
reason  and  conscience  have  dictated  to  him  as 
truth."  What  the  journalist  owes  to  his  readers 
is  truth.  Veracity  is  the  very  law  of  his  action. 
Milton,  in  his  noble  Speech  for  the  Liberty  of  Un- 
licensed Frinting,  observes  :  ''  When  a  man  writes 
to  the  w^orld,  he  summons  up  all  his  reason  and 
deliberation  to  assist  him ;  he  searches,  meditates,  is 
industrious,  and  likely  consults  and  confers  with  his 


166 


TEE  ETHICS   OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


judicious  friends ;  after  all  which  done,  he  takes  him- 
self to  be  informed  in  what  he  writes  as  well  as  any 
that  wrote  before  him."     Those  who  ^^  write  to  the 
world  "  in  the  newspapers  cannot,  indeed,  by  any 
possibility,    proceed    after    this    leisurely   fashion. 
The  work  of  the  journalist  is  usually  done  in  hot 
haste,  and  is  essentially  ephemeral.     I  remember 
not  long  ago  complimenting  a  young  Oxford  man 
upon  a  very  brilliant  leader  in  one  of  the  London 
daily  papers.     He  modestly  acknowledged  my  eu- 
logy of  his  article,  and  added  plaintively,  ''  But  to 
think  that  twenty-four  hours  is  its  term  of  life  !  " 
Twenty-four  hours!  I  thought;  you  flatter  yourself. 
It  will  be  forgotten  in  a  quarter  of  that  time.    '^  Here 
lies  one  whose  name  was  writ  in  water,"  was  the 
epitaph  which  poor  Keats  commanded  for  his  tomb. 
He   was   wrong.      '^^Ere   perennius"   would  have 
been  more  appropriate.      But  of  the  journalist  it 
may  with  truth  be  said  that  he  writes  in  water. 
However    judicious,    however    eloquent,    however 
piquant  his  composition,  it  is  at  once  swallowed  up 
by  envious  oblivion.      It  produces  its  impression 
instantaneously.     It  is  like  a  note  of  music,  heard 
and   gone  forever.     And  the  successful  journalist 
is   he   who,   consciously  or  unconsciously,  realises 
this.      To    avail   himself   adroitly    of   the   passing- 
moment  is  the  secret  of  his  trade.     Yes,  lie  writes 
in  water.    Acute  observation,  literary  skill,  learning, 
art,   science,  virtue   avail  him  not.      His   creation 
fades  away  suddenly  like  the  grass.     In  the  morning 


m.] 


TEE  JOUBNALIST  IN  FACT. 


167 


it  is  green  and  groweth  up.  In  the  evening  it  is 
cut  down,  dried  up,  and  withered.  Such  are  the 
conditions  under  which  his  work  is  done.  It  is 
extemporaneous.  It  cannot,  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases,  be  the  result  of  prolonged  examination  of 
the  special  question  with  which  it  deals.  But  it 
may,  at  all  events,  bo  honest.  Accurately  to  state 
the  facts,  fairly  to  comment  upon  them,  correctly 
to  sum  them  up,  and  candidly  to  indicate  the  con- 
clusions to  which  they  point — such,  surely,  is  the 
ethical  obligation  laid  upon  the  newspaper  pub- 
licist. The  masses  who  look  to  him  for  guidance 
have  a  right  to  expect  so  much  from  him.  ^'  Man 
consists  in  truth,"  says  Novalis.  The  journalist, 
of  all  men,  should  consist  in  truth. 


This,  then,  is  the  journalist's  vocation  in  ideal. 
What  is  it  in  fact  ?  I  wonder  to  how  many  news- 
paper writers  it  ever  so  much  as  occurs  that  they 
are  morally  responsible  for  what  they  write  ?  Cer- 
tainly there  are  many  who,  however  sensitive  to  the 
obligations  of  veracity  in  the  private  relations  of 
life,  do  not  apparently  suspect  that  it  continues  to 
claim  their  allegiance  when  they  exercise  their  pro- 
fession. I  suppose  I  should  not  greatly  err  if  I 
said  that  truth  is,  as  a  rule,  the  last  thing  which 
the  average  journalist  thinks  about,  as  he  girds 
himself  up  to  the  delivery  of  his  daily  burden.  It 
is   a   dictum    of  Cudworth's,    '^  Truth  is  the  most 


168 


THE  ETHICS   OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


unbending  and  uncompliable,  the  most  firm  and 
adamantine  thing  in  the  world."  The  mere  adjec- 
tives would,  in  most  cases,  suffice  to  make  the  able 
editor,  or  the  nimble  leader-Avriter,  drop  his  pen. 
He  prefers  the  teaching  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer, 
that  ''  What  we  call  truth  is  simply  the  correspond- 
ence of  subjective  to  objective  relations  :  "  *  and 
he  betters  the  instruction.  The  manipulation  of 
relations  is  the  business  of  his  life.  It  is  merely 
with  "  relative  realities  "  that  he  is  concerned  ;  and 
the  relative  is  flexible,  pliable,  shifting,  and  dis- 
solvent. I  confess  the  more  I  see  of  the  London 
journals,  which  I  suppose  will  compare  favourably 
with  any  other,  the  more  clearly  does  it  seem  to  me 
that  their  waiters  are,  for  the  most  part,  dominated 
— consciously  or  unconsciously — by  the  philosophy 
of  Balzac's  Vautrin  :  ^'  There  are  no  such  thino-s 
as  principles,  there  are  only  events ;  there  are  no 
such  things  as  laws,  there  are  only  circumstances. 
A  wise  man  embraces  events  and  circumstances  to 
shape  them  to  his  own  ends."  Such  are,  in  most 
cases,  the  ethics  of  journalism.  I  say  ''in  most 
cases."  That  it  is  not  always  so  I  cliecrfully  admit. 
There  are  British  journalists — it  is  my  privileo-e  to 
count  such  among  my  own  friends — whose  loyalty 
to  principle  is  unquestionable,  whose  veracity  is 
unimpeachable,  whose  motives,  whether  we  ao-ree 
with  their  views  or  not,  are  beyond  suspicion. 
Yes,  they  exist,  unsubmerged  in  that  bad  element ; 

*  First  Principles,  §  25. 


''I 


VII.] 


'MAGNIFICENT    MENDACITY:' 


169 


''rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto."  All  honour  to 
those  strong  swimmers.  Of  American  journalism 
I  know  little.  But  the  testimony  wliich  reaches 
me  regarding  it  is  not  reassuring.  Thus,  a  few 
years  ago,  I  find  a  reverend  orator  of  note  de- 
claring to  a  church  congress  in  Boston :  ''  The  easy 
flow  of  the  mao;nificent  mendacity  of  the  avoraire 
partisan  editor  in  America  makes  me  ashamed  every 
time  I  open  a  newspaper.  There  is  nothing  that 
can  equal  it,  in  any  way,  in  its  almost  admirable 
capacity  for  downright  lying."  The  amusing  author 
known  as  Max  O'Rell  writes  :  ^^  American  journal- 
ism is  above  all  sensational  journalism.  If  the  facts 
reported  are  exact,  so  much  the  better  for  the  paper; 
if  not,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  facts.  Beyond 
the  date  few  statements  are  reliable.  But  the 
papers  are  always  lively  reading."  I  cannot,  my- 
self, undertake  to  say  how  far  this  witness  is  true. 
Of  the  journalism  of  continental  Europe  I  can 
speak  with  more  knowledge.  And  concerning  it 
assuredly  even  worse  must  be  said.  Consider,  for 
example,  the  organs  of  what  is  called  in  France 
''free  thought" — la  Ubi^e  pensee.  Why  it  is  so 
called  I  do  not  know,  for  instead  of  thought  I  find 
only  shibboleths  and  sophisms ;  instead  of  freedom, 
bondage  to  the  basest  passions.  The  attacks  on 
religion  and  morals  which  fill  the  columns  of  these 
newspapers,  and  apparently  supply  their  raison 
cVdtre^  are  usually  made  with  insults,  rather  than 
with    anything    which    can    even   by    courtesy  be 


170 


THE  ETHICS   OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


termed  arc^uments.  ''  Calomniez  et  il  en  restera 
toujoiirs  quelque  chose,"  seems  to  be  the  law  of 
their  working.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  so- 
called  religious  press  ?  I  take  leave  to  say  that 
more  harm  to  religion  has  been  done  by  a  certain 
section  of  it  than  by  its  opponents.  I  speak  of 
that  species  of  journalism  of  which  the  late  M. 
Louis  Veuillot  was  the  supreme  type  in  his  time. 
I  make  no  question  of  the  entire  goodness  of  that 
pungent  writer's  motives.  I  am  quite  sure  of  the 
superlative  badness  of  his  methods.  The  wisdom 
that  is  from  above,  a  high  authority  tells  us,  is 
first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be 
entreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits.  The 
wisdom  which  guided  M.  Louis  Veuillot's  pen  was 
first  foul,  then  truculent,  blatant,  and  insolent,  full 
of  malignity  and  evil  fruits,  and  seems  to  have  come 
from  the  gfutters  of  Paris.  His  articles  were  a  tissue 
of  maledictions  and  anathemas,  resembling  the  curse 
of  p]rnulphus  ;  a  never-ceasing  rain  of  insult  upon 
just  and  unjust ;  upon  the  noblest  and  best  of  his 
own  communion  —  men  like  Montalembert  and 
Falloux,  Dupanloup  and  Lacordaire,  Ozanam  and 
Gratry, — no  less  than  upon  Garibaldians  and  Com- 
munists. His  reckless  indifference  to  truth  bordered 
on  the  sublime.  I  know  of  no  more  complete  ex- 
ample than  that  which  his  journal  presented,  of  the 
divorce  between  religion  and  ethics.  He  sowed  the 
wind,  and  Catholics  in  France  have  reaped  tlie  wliirl- 
wind,  abundantly. 


VII.]        THE  COBUUFTION  OF  THE  INTELLECT.       171 


An  eminent  French  writer  has  observed  that  the 
two  most  distinctive  ^^notes"  of  our  great  cities  are 
the  corruption  of  the  flesh  and  \\\g  corruption  of  the 
intellect.     Facts  too  amply  bear  out  his  judgment. 
The   vastness    of    such   places   as   London,    Paris, 
Berlin,  New  York  affords  a  cloak,  wliich  is  wanting 
in  the  greater  number  of  provincial  towns,  for  the 
deliberate  and  habitual  infraction  of  those  precepts 
of  the  moral  law  that  have  reference  to  the  virtue  of 
purity.     Systematic,  organised  unchastity  is  espe- 
cially the  sin  of  great  cities.     And  what  this  vice  is 
in  its  own   sphere,   the   vice    of   mendacity   is   in 
another  range,  as  striking  at  the  very  root  of  intel- 
lectual soundness,   as  being,  in  the  words  of  the 
Council  of  Trent,  ''a  disease  of  the  mind,  generally 
incurable."    Now  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  journal- 
ism is  conducted  under  conditions  which  tend  to 
nourish  this  vice.     The  newspaper  is,  by  its  very 
nature,  an  ephemeral  production,  read  for  an  hour 
and  then  cast  aside,  and  probably  never  looked  at 
again.     Its  assertions  have  done  their  work  before 
an  opportunity  of    correcting   them    is   presented. 
]3esides,    it  rests  with    editors  whether  contradic- 
tions of  false  and  misleading  allegations,  wliich  their 
journals  may  contain,  shall  appear  in  them  or  not. 
And  it  is  manifest  to  all  men  that  the  considerations 
by  which  this  question  is  determined  are,  in  a  vast 
majority    of   instances,    wholly  unethical.     Again, 
the  conditions  under  which  the  newspaper  publicist 
works  arc  extremely  unfavourable  to  the  cultivation 


172  THE  ETHICS   OF  JOURNALISM. 


[CH. 


of    the    virtue   of   veracity.      He   is   called   upon 
suddenly  to  expound  views  which  shall  strike  his 
readers  as  profound,   well-considered,  or  original, 
about   subjects   of   which,    very  likely,  he   knows 
nothing  truly  or  exactly.     Or  he  is  summoned  to 
essay  the  defence  of   "principles"  to  which  ho  is 
wholly  indifferent.     Or  he  is  bidden  to  attack  some 
institution,  some  interest,  some  work,  which  what- 
ever there  may  be  of  good  left  in  him  confesses  to 
be   worthy  of  respect  and  support.     A  very  few 
years'  practice  in  n  calling  of  this  kind  is  apt  to 
render  him  as  indifferent  to  the  goal  whither  his 
pen  conducts  him,  as  is  a  cab-horse  to  the  destina- 
tion   whither    the    driver's    "fare"   is   conveyed. 
And  the  worst  of  it  is  that,  in  time,  he  comes  to 
glory  in  his  shame.     Aristotle,  in  the  Nicomachean 
Ethics,  distinguishes  between  two  kinds  of  liars ; 
there  is  "  the  liar  who  loves  a  lie  for  its  own  sake,"' 
and  "the  liar  who  lies  to  win  reputation  or  to  make 
money."   But  many  a  journalist  who,  at  first,  belongs 
to   the  latter   of    these  classes,   and  is  perhaps  "a 
little    ashamed,   for   a   while,   at   finding    himself 
there,  passes  pretty  swiftly  into  the  former.     Thus 
does  he  anticipate,  in  this  life,   the  doom   which 
Dante  ascribes  to  the  damned ;  he  is  in  the  miser- 
able estate  of  those  "  genti  dolorose  "  who  have  lost 
"  il  ben  del  intclletto."     And  then,  by  a  fatal  and 
necessary  law,  his  chief  object,  next  to  the  provi- 
sion of  the  means  of   "  agreeable  feeling  "  for  him- 
self, is  to  bring  down  as  many  as  poslible  to  his 


[vii.        THE  BE.ETHICISING  OF  FUBLIC  LIFE.       173 

own  level.  Nor  does  he  find  any  surer  way  of 
effecting  this,  than  by  the  persistent  denial  of  those 
moral  excellences  which  he  has  ceased  to  strive 
after,  or  even  to  venerate.  Is  a  man  the  object  of 
reverence  and  admiration,  for  patriotism,  philan- 
thropy, piety  ?  Your  newspaper  censors,  with  due 
protestations  of  hatred  of  hypocrisy,  will  strip  off 
the  veneer  which  imposes  on  the  misuspicious ;  will 
show  their  readers  that  these  pretended  virtues  are 
a  mere  cloak  for  some  base  or  sordid  end ;  will 
demonstrate  conclusively  that  "  old  Cato  is  as  great 
a  rogue  as  you."  And  their  efforts  are  only  too 
successful.  I  think  I  may  truly  say  that  the  news- 
paper press,  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century, 
has  done  more  than  anything  else  to  de-ethicise 
public  life ;  to  lay  the  axe  to  the  root  of  duty,  self- 
devotion,  self-sacrifice,  the  elements  of  the  moral 
greatness  of  a  nation,  which  is  its  true  greatness. 
Such  is  the  practical  working  of  the  philosophy  of 
relativity  in  the  sphere  of  journalism. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


THE    ETHICS    OF   PROPERTY. 

Much  has  been  written  lately  on  capital  and  labour ; 
on  tlie  great  question  between  "the  Haves"  and 
"the   Have-nots,"  which  underlies  all  social   and 
political  issues.      In  this  chapter  I  sliall  approach 
that   question   from   a  point  of   view  usually  lost 
sight  of,   or  ignored.     A  considerable  number  of 
contrilmtions  to  its  discussion  lies  before   mo,   as 
I  write;   publications,  in   various   languages,    and 
of  all  sorts  and  kinds;   from  the  folio  to  the  fly- 
sheet ;  from  the  reasoned  treatise  to  the  rhetorical 
tract.      As  I  turn  them  over,   I   find   invocations 
of   selfishness  and  of   sentiment;   pleas   on  behalf 
of  civilisation   and  on  behalf  of  our  common  hu- 
manity ;   appeals  to  acts  of  the  legislature  and  to 
the  teachings   of  political   econony.      To   all   the 
considerations  thus  urged,  I  cheerfully  allow  due 
weight.      Both  selfishness  and  sentiment  nmst  bo 
reckoned  with,  as  permanent  factors  in  our  nature. 
True  it  is   that   doctrines   incompatible   with   the 
fair    order   of    civilised    life   are    self-condemned. 


VIII.] 


THE  TRUE  OBITElilON. 


175 


As   true   is   it,    that    the    common    good    of    all 
mankind   is   an   end    which    we    are    ever    bound 
to  keep  in  view.     "Some  reverence  for  the  laws 
ourselves  have  made  "  is  an  essential  condition  of 
the  political  freedom  Avhich  we  all  prize  so  higlily. 
Political  economy  cannot  be  put  aside  with  a°Car- 
lylean  anathema  as  "  the  dismal  science,"  although 
perhaps  more  sad  nonsense  has  been  talked  about 
it,    during   the   present  century,    than   about   any 
other  subject,  with  the  possible  exception  of  sani- 
tation.    But    none   of    these   things   goes    to    the 
root  of  the  matter.     The  first  fact  about  man,  as 
we   have   learnt   from   Aristotle,   is   that   lie  is    a 
moral    being,    having    perception     of    right    and 
wrong,  justice  and  injustice.      "  The  law  of  con- 
science," echoes  the  great  English  philosopher  of 
the  last  century,  "is  the  law  which  we  are  born 
under."     The  moral  law  is  the  rule  of  economics, 
the  life  of  legislation,  the  tutor  of  philanthropy,  the 
foundation  of  civilisation,  the  discipline  of  senti- 
ment, and  the  curb  of  selfishness.     These  are  not 
the  flourishes  of  rlietoric.     They  are  the  words  of 
truth  and  soberness.     The  moral  law,  as  I  claim 
to    have  shown  in  previous  chapters,  is  Supreme 
Reason  ruling  over  all  intelligent  existence  through- 
out  the  universe,  either  by  its  mandates  or  by  "its 
penalties;   sovereign  over  society,  as  over  the  in- 
dividuals of  whom  society  is  composed ;  to  obey  it, 
the  great  good  of  nations  as  of  men ;   to  violate  it' 
tlie  chief  evil.     If  the  moral  law  is  this-and  if  it 


176 


THE  ETHICS  OF  FROFEBTY. 


[CH. 


...  -. 
Vlll.J 


THE  TRUE  STARTING  POINT, 


177 


is  not  this,  it  is  nothing — to  it,  in  the  last  instance, 
must  the  appeal  be  made,  in  the  great  controversy 
concerning  property  now  agitating  the  world.  Why 
not  appeal  to  it  in  the  first  instance  ? 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  disputants  on  this  mo- 
mentous question  very  seldom  do  so  appeal,  cither 
primarily  or  ultimately. 

"  Vom  Iicclite,  das  mit  uns  geboren  ist, 
Vom  dem,  ist,  leider  !  nie  die  Frage." 

I  doubt  much  whether,  in  the  mass  of  printed 
matter  concerning  it,  which  I  have  now  before  me, 
there  is  any  attempt  to  discuss  it,  seriously,  as  an 
ethical  question.  It  is  truly  observed  by  Mazzini, 
''  The  merely  analytic  and  negative  philosophy 
of  the  last  centurv  has  instilled  materialism  into 
our  daily  practical  life,  into  our  habits  of  thought, 
our  methods  of  viewing  all  human  things.  God 
is  not  in  the  heart  of  the  century."  Practical 
atheism  is  quite  compatible  witli  a  sincere  profession 
of  Christianity.  And  there  is  no  more  significant 
manifestation  of  it  than  the  widely  spread  dis- 
belief in  the  eternal  difference  between  moral  good 
and  moral  evil ;  in  the  existence  of  a  nature  of 
things  which  is  ethical,  and  from  which  rights  and 
duties  spring ;  and  in  the  power  of  human  reason 
to  ascertain  and  formulate  those  rights  and  those 
duties.  Such  appears,  indeed,  to  me,  the  worst 
kind  of  atheism ;  for  it  means  not  the  rejection 
of  this  or  that  fornmla,  in  which  the  theistic  idea 
has   found    expression,    necessarily   imperfect,   but 


the  non-recognition  of  the  moral  law  in  which  the 
theistic  idea  is  rooted;  which  necessarily  leads  up 
to  the  Divine  concept;  which  finds  in  God  and 
immortality  its  final  end  and  its  crown.  T  will 
take  an  illustration  of  what  I  am  saying  from 
Professor  Jevons'  w^ell-known  work,  The  State  in 
Helation  to  Labour,  ^'The  first  step,''  the  professor 
postulates,  "must  be  to  rid  our  minds  of  the  idea 
that  there  are  any  such  things  in  social  matters 
as  abstract  rights."  I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm,  on 
the  contrary,  that  the  first  step  is  clearly  to  appre- 
hend that  man's  natural  rights  exist ;  and  that  the 
second  is  to  discern  clearly  what  those  rights  are 
and  how  they  are  conditioned;  to  which  I  may 
add,  that  the  third  step  is  to  remember  that  political 
science  deals  with  the  living,  the  complex,  the  con- 
tingent ;  that  its  work  is  not  to  pla}"  with  abstrac- 
tions, nor  to  balance  probabilities.  Let  me  apply 
these  rules  to  the  topic  before  us — the  Ethics  of 
Property. 


;  i 


The  first  question,  then,  is  whether  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  a  ^^  natural  right"  to  private  property. 
Now  the  word  *'  nature "  may  mean  either  that 
which  is,  or  that  which  ought  to  be.  Taking  it 
in  the  first  of  these  senses,  we  must  maintain  with 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  that  a  desire  for  property  is 
one  of  the  elements  of  man's  nature.  Nay,  we  may 
observe  the  germs  of  it  in  animals  inferior  to  man 

N 


ii9^ 


178 


THi:  ETHICS  OF  FROFEUTY, 


[CH, 


in  the  scale  of  being.  Every  one  has  seen  the 
attempts  at  appropriating,  and  subduing  to  them- 
selves, the  unconscious,  made  by  beavers,  wasps, 
ants,  and  birds.  My  dog  has  a  keen  sense  of 
proprietorship  in  the  basket  which  is  his  sitting 
room  by  day,  and  his  bed  by  night.  We  may 
safely  assent  to  Mr.  Spencer's  argument  that  ''  if 
a  propensity  to  personal  acquisition  be  really  a 
component  of  man's  constitution,  then  that  cannot 
be  a  right  form  of  society  which  allow^s  it  no 
scope."  * 

But  I  would  put  the  matter  in  another  way, 
which  unfortunately  is  not  Mr.  Spencer's  way  at 
all.  I  do  not  believe  with  him  that  right  and  duty 
are  merely  ''instincts  raisonnesP  I  hold  that  in 
ethics — the  rule  of  what  should  be,  as  distinct  from 
what  is — we  must  begin  with  the  facts,  not  of  man's 
animal,  but  of  his  moral  nature  :  personality,  will, 
consciousness ;  that  invisible,  but  most  real  world, 
which  is  the  domain,  not  of  the  physicist,  but  of 
the  metaphysician.  As  I  insisted  in  the  Fourth 
Chapter,  it  is  from  personality  that  all  rights  spring; 
all  rights,  not  only  the  rights  of  men.  For  to  the 
lower  animals  we  may  attribute  at  least  quasi  rights, 
in  proportion  as  they  advance  toward  personality. 
They  are  not  strictly  persons  ;  but  there  is  in  them 
an  element  which  is  the  foundation  of  personality ; 
ein  Stuck  personUcheSj  Trendelenburg  calls  it. 
And    here    is    the     true     ground     of    the     legal 

*  Social  StaticSy  c.  x.  §  4. 


vni.] 


A   FUNDAMENTAL   TRUTH. 


I 


! 


179 


prohibition  of  cruelty  to  them.  But  only  man, 
self-conscious,  self-determined,  morally  responsible, 
is,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  a  Ferson,  And 
of  personality  liberty  of  volition— wherein  all  other 
liberties  are  grounded— is  the  necessary  outcome. 
A  man  is  lord  of  himself.  He  has  an  indefeasible 
right  to  live  out  his  own  life,  as  a  man.  And  he  has 
an  indefeasible  right  to  all  that  is  necessary  to  enable 
him  to  do  that.  The  word  person  denotes  the  indi- 
vidual as  capable  of  rights  {rechtsfdhig)  and  in  one 
sense  we  may  say  that  all  rights  are  personal. 
They  spring  from  personality. 

Let  us  lay  this  fundamental  truth  to  heart,  for 
it  is  of  the  most  momentous  practical  importance. 
The  principle  of  right,  I  say,  is  human  personality 
— the  ethical  idea  and  psychological  being  of  man. 
From  this  fount  flow  all  those  various  natural  rio-hts 
which    constitute  his  primordial,    inalienable,   and 
imprescriptible   inheritance.      But    the    Person    is 
found  only  in  society.     Only  in  opposition  to  the 
'•'Thou,"  does  the  'a"  arise.     It  is  in  civilisation 
that  the  idea  of  right  unfolds  itself.    And  accordins- 
to  the  degree  of  civilisation — which  means  man's 
consciousness   of    himself   and   his   environment- 
positive   rights    vary.      The    more   developed   the 
consciousness,  the  greater  the  right.    Children  have 
not  tlie  same  positive  rights  as  men ;  and  there  are 
states  of  civilisation  which  are  infantine,  nay,  em- 
bryonic.     In    the    earliest    historical    period,    the 
ethical  idea  is  dim,  obscure,  dream-like.  Gradually, 
man  attains  to  clearer  knowledge  of  himself  and 

n2 


180 


TEE  ETEICS  OF  PBOPEBTY. 


[CH. 


of  his  ethical  end  ;  and  the  concept  of  right,  little 
by  little,  purifies  and  shapes  public  and  private  life. 
To  tlie  validity  of  all  right,  the  recognition  of  the 
community  is  essential.  And  Avhen  in  treating  of 
man's  natural  rights  we  pass  from  the  abstract  to 
the  concrete,  we  must  ever  remember  that  those 
rights  are  conditioned  b}'  the  social  organism  in 
which  man  is  found.  It  is  only  by  an  effort  of 
the  imagination  that  we  abstract  the  individual 
from  the  community.  The  primary  error  of  modern 
publicists  of  the  Rousseauan  School  is  to  forget  this, 
and  to  legislate  for  an  imaginary  man,  belonging  to 
a  fabulous  prehistoric  period,  '^When  wild  in  woods 
the  noble  savage  ran."  Not  man  unclothed,  but 
man  clothed  upon,  is  the  true  ideal;  man  developed 
and  cultivated  to  the  utmost  by  society  ;  his  affec- 
tions, capacities,  and  powers  all  brought  under  the 
sway  of  reason.  And  tlie  natural  rights  of  this 
ideal  have  only  an  ideal  value.  The  individual  is 
a  portion  of  the  social  organism.  His  rights  exist 
in  subordination  to  that  whole  of  which  he  is  a 
part.  They  are  conditioned  by  his  duties.  To 
which  we  may  add,  that  the  whole  js  before  the 
parts  of  which  it  is  composed.  The  preservation 
of  the  whole  is  the  condition  of  the  existence  of 
the  parts.  And,  in  the  last  resort,  the  whole,  for 
its  self-preservation,  possesses  a  right  to  dispose 
of  the  parts,  according  to  the  dictum  ''  Salus 
populi  suprema  lex." 

Now  all  this  holds  good  of  the  right  of  private 
property.     Its  ultimate  ground  is  necessity,  issuing 


Vlll.j 


TEE  ULTIMATE  GROUND. 


181 


from  the  reason  of  things.     Private  property,  like 
individual  liberty- of  which,  indeed,  it  is  a  part- 
is necessary  to  the  full  idea  of  human  personality, 
to  its  due  explication,  its  complete  development. 
It  is  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  which  leads 
us  to  appropriate  things,  to  convert  them  into  last- 
ing instruments  of  the  will.     And  a  thing,  being 
void  of  self,  has  no  right  against  a  person  possess- 
ing selfhood.     Property  is  a  specific  instrument  of 
human    will    and  of   human  aims.      It  is  realised 
liberty.     As  Locke  observes  :  ''  Every  man  has  a 
property  in  his  own  person:    this  nobody  has  a 
right  to  but  himself.     The  labour  of  his  body  and 
the  work  of  his  hands,  we  may  say,  are  properly 
his."*     Yes,  we  may.     And  we  may  say  the  same 
of  the  labour  of  his  mind,  and  of  the  work  of  his 
brain.     A  man  has  a  right  to  be  himself,  to  live 
out  his  own  life.     But  the  most  valuable  part  of 
his  life  is  the  intellectual.     He  has  a  right  to  the 
fruit  of  his  labour.     And  mental  labour  is  of  far 
more  account  than  physical. 

But  wherein  does  property  really  consist  ?  Not 
m  bare  possession.  There  may  be  property  with- 
out possession,  and  possession  without  property. 
My  watch  may  be  in  the  possession  of  a  thief.  But 
it  is  still  my  property.  Possession  is  merely  physi- 
cal. Property  belongs  to  \\\q  moral  realm,  the 
realm  of  rights.  And,  as  I  have  already  observed, 
it  is  only  in  the  social  organism  that  rights  become 
valid.    It  is  not  that  the  original  source  of  the  right 

*   Of  Civil  Government,  c.  v. 


182 


TEE  ETHICS  OF  PEOFEBTY. 


[CH. 


to  property  is  in  the  will  of  the  community.  The 
mere  volition  of  a  tribe,  of  a  nation,  of  the  whole 
human  race,  cannot  really  create  right,  in  the  phi- 
losophical sense  of  the  word.  The  true  source  of 
right  is  in  the  reason  of  things,  which  is  ethical. 
But  only  in  civil  conditions  is  the  right  to  pro- 
perty, like  all  rights,  realised.  And  as  the  right 
to  property  becomes  valid  in  civil  society,  so  does 
its  possession  imply  duties  to  civil  society.  The 
rights  of  property  and  the  duties  of  property 
spring  together  from  the  idea  of  the  social  organ- 
ism, and  must,  therefore,  symmetrically  correspond. 
The  happiness,  nay  the  maintenance  of  the  state 
depends  upon  the  balance.  The  cupidity  of  human 
nature  is  ever  tending  to  destroy  it. 

To  sum  up  the  argument.  The  right  to  private 
property  is  a  natural  right.  It  is  the  expression 
and  the  guarantee  of  moral  personality,  and  is 
therefore  inviolable.  It  is  a  necessary  means  of 
the  ethical  development  of  the  individual,  of  the 
explication  of  personality.  But,  like  all  rights, 
it  becomes  valid  only  in  the  community  in 
which  it  is  exercised.  It  is  a  moral  entity, 
limited  by  the  idea  of  the  inviolable  per- 
sonality of  others,  by  the  general  laws  and  prin- 
ciples of  ethics.  It  is  conditioned  by  correlative 
duties  varying  in  extent,  according  to  the  degree 
of  civilisation  and  the  circumstances  of  the  ao^e.  It 
is  held  in  subordination  to  the  supreme  claims  of 
the  community.  It  must  not  be  exercised  arbitrarily, 
not  abused  wantonly.     It  must    be    used    for  the 


Till.] 


FACTS. 


183 


i> 


I 


good  of  the  community  in  which  it  is  possessed, 
as  well  as  for  the  good  of  the  possessor.  It  must 
be  organised  in  the  commonwealth;  that  is,  it  must 
be  regulated  by  reason 


And  now,  turning  aside  from  these  abstract  con- 
siderations, let  us  look  out  into  the  concrete  world, 
and  see  how  things  really  are  in  reepect  of  pro- 
perty. It  will  suffice  if  we  confine  our  attention 
to  our  own  country — the  richest  country  in  the 
world.  For  what  we  see  there,  we  may  see,  in 
greater  or  less  degree,  elsewhere.  The  tendency 
is  everywhere  the  same.  Think  of  the  condition, 
the  economical  condition,  of  this  vast  London  in 
which  I  am  writing ;  of  the  appalling  contrasts 
exhibited  by  the  thousands  of  rich  and  the 
millions  of  poor.  Realise  what  the  words  mean 
which  M.  Zola  uses  in  his  terrible  j^icture  of  the 
famishing  Gervaise:  "Ah!  lacrevaison  des  pauvres, 
les  eiitrailles  vides  qui  orient  la  faim,  les  besoinsdes 
betes  claquant  des  dents  et  s'empiffrant  de  choses  im- 
mondes,  dans  ce  grand  Paris,  si  dore  et  siflambant." 
''  I  know  the  East  end  of  London  very  well,"  testi- 
fies Dr.  Kyle,  the  Protestant  Bishop  of  Liverpool ; 
'^  the  men  are  living  there  little  better  than  beasts." 
''  Half  beast,  half  devil,"  he  thinks,  ^^  would  truly 
describe  them."  Not  long  ago  the  Times  spoke  of 
the  slums  of  London  as  ''the  kitchen-midden  of 
humanit3\"  ^^  Ten  thousand  of  our  fellow  creaturesj" 


182 


THE  ETHICS  OF  TROTETiTY. 


[en. 


to  property  is  in  the  will  of  the  community.  The 
mere  volition  of  a  tribe,  of  a  nation,  of  the  whole 
human  race,  cannot  really  create  right,  in  the  phi- 
losophical sense  of  the  word.  The  true  source  of 
right  is  in  the  reason  of  things,  which  is  ethical. 
But  only  in  civil  conditions  is  the  right  to  pro- 
perty, like  all  rights,  realised.  And  as  the  right 
to  property  becomes  valid  in  civil  society,  so  does 
its  possession  imply  duties  to  civil  society.  The 
rights  of  property  and  the  duties  of  property 
spring  together  from  the  idea  of  the  social  organ- 
ism, and  must,  therefore,  symmetrically  correspond. 
The  happiness,  nay  the  maintenance  of  the  state 
depends  upon  the  balance.  Tlie  cupidity  of  human 
nature  is  ever  tending  to  destroy  it. 

To  sum  up  the  argument.  The  right  to  private 
property  is  a  natural  riglit.  It  is  the  expression 
and  the  guarantee  of  moral  personality,  and  is 
therefore  inviolable.  It  is  a  necessary  means  of 
the  ethical  development  of  the  individual,  of  the 
explication  of  personality.  But,  like  all  rights, 
it  becomes  valid  only  in  the  community  in 
which  it  is  exercised.  It  is  a  moral  entity, 
limited  by  the  idea  of  the  inviolable  per- 
sonality of  others,  by  the  general  laws  and  prin- 
ciples of  ethics.  It  is  conditioned  by  correlative 
duties  varying  in  extent,  according  to  the  degree 
of  civilisation  and  the  circumstances  of  the  a^re.  It 
is  held  in  subordination  to  the  supreme  claims  of 
the  community.  It  must  not  be  exercised  arl)itrarily, 
not  abused   wantonly.     It  must    be    used    for  the 


I 


Till.] 


FACTS. 


183 


good  of  the  community  in  which  it  is  possessed, 
as  well  as  for  the  good  of  the  possessor.  It  must 
be  organised  in  the  conmionwcalth;  that  is,  it  must 
be  regulated  by  reason 


And  now,  turning  aside  from  these  abstract  con- 
siderations, let  us  look  out  into  the  concrete  world, 
and  see  how  things  really  are  in  roepect  of  pro- 
perty. It  will  suffice  if  we  confine  our  attention 
to  our  own  country — the  richest  country  in  the 
world.  For  what  we  see  there,  we  may  see,  in 
greater  or  less  degree,  elsewhere.  The  tendency 
is  everywhere  the  same.  Tlunk  of  the  condition, 
the  economical  condition,  of  this  vast  London  in 
which  I  am  writing ;  of  the  appalling  contrasts 
exhibited  by  the  thousands  of  rich  and  the 
millions  of  poor.  licalise  what  tlic  words  mean 
which  M.  Zola  uses  in  liis  terrible  ^^icture  of  the 
famishing  Gervaise :  "  Ah !  la  crevaison  des  pauvres, 
les  entrailles  vides  qui  orient  la  faim,  les  besoins  des 
bctos  claquant  des  dents  et  s'empiffrant  de  choses  im- 
mondcs,  dans  ce  grand  Paris,  si  dore  et  siflambant." 
''  I  know  the  East  end  of  London  very  well,''  testi- 
fies Dr.  Kyle,  the  Protestant  Bishop  of  Liverpool ; 
^^tho  men  are  living  there  little  better  than  beasts." 
"Half  beast,  lialf  devil,"  he  thinks,  ^' would  truly 
describe  tlicm."  Not  long  ago  the  Times  spoke  of 
tlic  slums  of  London  as  ''  the  kitclicn-midden  of 
hunumity."  ^^  Ten  thousand  of  our  fellow  creatures," 


184 


TBE  ETmCS  OF  FBOPERTY. 


[CH. 


Vlll.J 


FIGURES. 


185 


wrote  the  well-known  i^hilanthropist,  S.  G.  0.,  to 
the  same  journal,  '^  are  begotten  and  reared  in  an 
atmosi:)here  of  brutality,  a  species  of  human  sewage, 
the  very  drainage  of  the  vilest  productions   of  or- 
dinary  vice."      Picture   the    hungry   hordes    who 
go   up    and   down  the  streets  seeking    work,   and 
finding  none ;  that  great   army  of  tlie  unemployed 
with  no  choice  between  imprisonment  in  the  work- 
house and  starvation  outside.     And  what  employ- 
ment,  it  often   is,   if   they  succeed  in  finding  it! 
Think  of  the  wretched  women  who  make  the  boxes 
in  which  matches  are  sold— their  pay  2Jd.  for  turn- 
ing out  a  gross  of  them,  and  putting  on  the  labels, 
and  tying  them  up  in  bundles,  themselves  providing 
paste,  firing,   and  string.      Think  of   their  scarce 
happier  sisters,  who  toil  from   morning  to  night, 
folding,  folding,  folding  slieets  of  cheap  Bibles- 
well  pleased  if  they  can  thereby  earn  ten  shillings  a 
week.     Such,   in    outline,  which  can  be  only  too 
easily  filled,  are  the  facts  which  meet  us  in  our 
great  cities.     I  am  told,  however,  that  there  is  im- 
provement every  year.    It  may  be  so.    But  I  cannot 
shut  my  eyes  to  the  sights  which  stare  me  in  the  face 
every  day;  to  the  deep  and  widespread  degradation, 
physical,  mental,  and  moral,  surging  around  the 
well  ai^pointed  houses  in  which  we,  "t\\Q  comfortable 
classes,"  lead  our  cultured,  comely,  and  commodious 
lives  ;   or  to  the  abject  poverty  which  is  a  main  cause 
of  that  degradation.    Of  the  rural  population  I  need 
hardly  speak.     Fifty  years  ago  Lord  Bcaconsfield 


I 


drew,    in    Sybil,    the   picture   of    their   condition, 
heightening  it  by  a  not  wholly  imaginary  contrast  : 

"Remember  what  they  once  were — the  freest,  the  bravest, 
the  best  natured,  and  the  best  looking,  the  happiest  and  most 
i-eligious  race  upon  the  surface  of  this  globe.  And  think  of 
them  now,  with  all  their  crimes,  and  all  their  slavish  sufferings ; 
their  soured  spirits  and  their  stunted  forms;  their  lives  without 
enjoyment,  and  their  deaths  without  hope." 

Am  I  told  that  this  is  rhetoric  ?  Well,  let  us  come 
to  figures,  which  are  more  eloquent  than  any  tropes. 
The  total  production  of  the  United  Kingdom  may 
be  roughly  estimated  at  £1,250,000,000.  Of  this 
sum,  the  share  taken  by  landlords,  capitalists, 
and  middle  men  amounts  in  round  numbers  to 
£800,000,000,  and  the  share  taken  by  skilled  and 
unskilled  labourers  to  £450,000,000.  "  The  re- 
ward," Mr.  Mill  has  somewliere  observed,  ^^nstead 
of  being  proportioned  to  the  labour  and  abstinence 
of  the  individual,  is  almost  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  it : 
those  who  receive  the  least,  labour  and  abstain  the 
most." 

Now  is  this  condition  of  the  conmmnity,  is  the 
distribution  of  wealth  issuing  in  such  a  state  of  the 
social  organism,  reasonable  ?  Is  it  right  ?  The 
two  questions,  remember,  are  really  one.  For 
reason  and  right  are  identical.  There  are  those 
who,  more  or  less  explicitly,  contend  that  it  is. 
Well  does  Mr.  Henry  George  remark:  ^' There  is 
a  gospel  of  selfishness,  soothing  as  soft  flutes  to 
those,  who  having  fared  Avell  themselves,  think  that 


'  ( 


186 


TnE  ETHICS  OF  TnOTEBTY. 


[rn 


eyerybody  ought  to  be  satisfied."     I  am  sorry  to 
say  that   gospel   is  not  iinfrequently  preached   in 
Christian  churches.     Tlie  Becitl  j^aiqyeres  of  Christ 
is  converted  into  J3eaH  x>ossklentes,  in  the  mouths 
of   many    who    claim    to   prophesy   in    His    name. 
Then,  there  is  a  sect   of  political  economists  for 
whom   to  buy  in  the  cheapest  and  to  sell  in  the 
dearest  market,  is  the  whole  duty  of  man,  and  the 
payment  of  wages  the  sole  bond  of  human  society. 
This  is  that  Benthamite  doctrine  which  Mr.  Carlyle 
denounced  as  ^^a  wretched,  unsympathetic,  scraggy 
Atheism  and  Egoism."     It  is  what   George  Sand 
called  ''the  love  of  money  erected  into  a  dogma 
of  public  morality."     The  practical  outcome  is  the 
declaration  which  we  so  often  hear,  that  a  man  has 
a  right  to  do  wliat  he  will  with  his  own.     This  is 
indeed  a  contradiction   in  terms.     A  right  is  not 
a  thing  which  can  be  used  by  the  mere  arbitrariness 
of  self-will.     If  you  so  use  it,  you  convert  it  into 
a  wrong,  for  it  is  a  moral  entity  conditioned  by 
duties.     Rights  and  duties  can  no  more  exist  apart, 
than  can  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle.     Speaking 
generally,  all  this  seems  to  be  hidden  from  the  eyes 
of  the  wealthy.     It  has  been  said  by  Victor  Hugo, 
not  too  strongly,  "  The  Paradise  of  the  rich  isma'dc 
out  of  the  hell  of  the  poor."     That  the  wealth  of 
the   world  should  increase  so   rapidly  as   it   does 
increase,  and  that  so  large  a  share  of  its  benefits 
should  be  absorbed  by  a  little  class  of  capitalists, 
while  so  small  a  share  falls  to  the  great  mass   of 


viTT.]         "IT  IS    UNJUST:    IT  CANNOT  LASTr        1S7 

producers,*  is  surely  sufficient  proof  that  the  world 
is  out  of  joint  upon  this  vital  question.  The 
sophisms  of  selfishness,  the  platitudes  of  political 
economists,  are  opposed  to  those  ^^  moral  laws  of 
nature  and  of  nations,"  which  rule  supreme  over 
property,  commerce,  industry,  as  elsewhere,  ^^t 
is  unjust,  it  cannot  last,"  judged  the  wise  Duke  of 
Weimar  when  the  first  Napoleon's  glory  was  at  its 
height.  We  must  judge  likewise  of  the  present 
distribution  of  property. 

^'  To  me,  at  least,  it  would  be  enougli  to  condemn  modern 
society  as  hardly  an  advance  on  slavery  or  serfdom,  if  the 
permanent  condition  of  industry  were  to  be  that  which  we 
behold,  that  ninety  per  cent,  of  the  actual  producers  of  wealth 
have  no  home  that  tliey  can  call  their  own  beyond  the  end  of 
the  week;  have  no  bit  of  soil,  or  so  much  as  a  room  that 
belongs  to  them;  have  nothing  of  value  of  any  kind  except  as 
much  old  furniture  as  will  go  in  a  cart ;  have  the  precarious 
chance  of  weekly  Avages  which  barely  suffices  to  keep  them  in 
health;  are  housed  for  the  most  part  in  places  that  no  man 
thinks  fit  for  his  horse ;  are  separated  by  so  narrow  a  margin 


'''Mr.  Ruskin's  charming  account  of  the  way  iu  which  his  own 
patrimony  was  acquired  supplies  an  excellent  illustration  of  what 
I  am  writing.  ''  My  father  and  his  partners  catered  into  what 
your  correspondent  mellifluously  styles  ^a  mutually  beneficent 
partnershij) '  with  certain  labourers  in  Spain.  These  labourers 
produced  from  the  earth,  annually,  a  certain  number  of  bottles  of 
wine.  These  pi-oductions  were  sold  by  my  father  and  his  partners, 
who  kept  nine-tenths,  or  thereabouts,  of  the  price  themselves,  and 
gave  one-tenth,  or  thereabouts,  to  the  labourers.  In  which  state 
of  mutual  benelicence  my  father  and  his  partners  naturally  became 
rich,  and  the  labourers  as  natui-ally  remained  poor.  Then  my 
good  father  gave  all  his  money  to  me."  Arrows  of  the  Chace, 
vol.  ii.  p.  102. 


I    j 


^1 


I 


IN 


188 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PBOPERTY. 


[en. 


from  destitution,  that  a  month  of  bad  trade,  sickness,  or  nnex- 
pected  loss,  brings  them   face  to  face  with  hunger  and   pau- 

P^"**"' 1'his  is  tlie  normal  state  of  the  average  workman 

in  town  or  country." 

So  Mr.  Frederic  Harrison,  as  quoted  in  the  Bejmri 
of  (he  Industrial  liemunerallon  Conference.  And 
1  entirely  agree  with  him.  To  the  Hke  effect  writes 
Mr.  Giffen  in  tlie  Second  Yokinio  of  liis  Essays 
on  Finance.  "No  one,"  this  eminent  statistician 
judges,  "  can  contemplate  the  jn-esent  condition  of 
the  masses  of  the  i^eople,  without  desiring  sonic- 
thing  like  a  revolution  for  the  better." 


What  then  is  the  true  remedy  ?     Socialism  pro- 
fesses  to   oft'cr  one.      Let   us   sec   what   it  really 
amounts    to.       It    is    well    worth    while     to    do 
this.      My    lamented   friend,   the   late   Sir   Ileiuy 
Maine,  has  well  observed,  in  his  last  work  :  "  There 
can  be  no  more  formidable  symptom  of  our  time 
than  the  growth  of  Irrcconcileablc  bodies  within  the 
mass  of   the  population  ;   associations  of   men  who 
hokl  political  opinions  as  men  once  held  religious 
opinions.     They  cling  to  their  creed  with  the  same 
iutensity  of  belief,  the  same  immunity  from  doubt, 
the  same  confident  expectation  of   blessedness   to 
come  quickly,  which  characterises  the  disciples  of 
an  infant  faith.'"*    The  enthusiasm,  no  less  than  tlie 
growing  numbers,  of  the  Socialists  entitles  them  to 
the  candid  attention  of   every  i)ublicist ;    for  on- 

*  Popular  Gonrnment,  p.  2b. 


viii.J        SOCIALISM  AND  PRIVATE  PHOPEllTY.       189 

thiisiasm  is  one  of  the  greatest  factors  in  the  world's 
liistory.  Let  us  see  what  is  the  means  by  which 
they  seek  to  set  the  world  right  on  this  matter  of 
property. 

It  is    a  very  simple  means.     It  is,  in  effect,  to 
annihilate  private  property.  And  here  I  may  be  met 
Avith   the    objection  :    ''  You   are  confounding  two 
things  that  are  quite  different :  Communism  is  one 
thing,  Socialism  another."     Well,  I  am  fully  aware 
that  a  distinction  is  often  set  up   between  the  two 
tlnngs.     But  I  confess  it  seems  to  me  a  distinction 
without   mucli   practical  difference.       Communism 
postulates— or  necessarily  implies,   if   it  does  not 
actually  postuLate— the  complete  abolition  of  private 
property,  and  the   supply  of  each  individual  from 
the  common  store,  without  much  regard,  apparently, 
to  the  contributions  to  that  common  store  which  the 
individual  may,  or  may  not,  have  made.     And  so 
the  pithy  formula  of  Louis  Blanc  :  ^ '  De  chacun  selon 
ses  facultes  ;  a  chacun  selon  ses  besoins."    Socialism, 
at  all  events  as  expounded  in  England,  does  not, 
in  words,  go  so  far  as  this.    But  it  certainly  denies 
private  property  in  the  instruments  of  production, 
and  seeks  to  ''  socialise"  them.    Thus,  Mr.  Hyndman 
desiderates  ^^  collective  ownership  of  land,  capital, 
machinery,    and    credit,"  *    which,    surely,    comes 
very  close  to  the  annihilation  of  private  property. 
Would  it  not  reduce  individual   ownership  to  the 

'•''    Will  Socialism  benefit  the  English  People  ?  a  Debate  between 
Charles  Lradluugli  and  H.  M.  Hyndniau,  p.  12. 


J\ 


190 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PROPERTY, 


[oil- 


pecuUum  of  a  Roman  slave  ?  But  tliere  lies  before 
me  The  Manifesto  of  the  Socialistic  Leacjue^ 
'^signed  by  the  Provisional  Council  at  the  founda- 
ti(m  of  tlie  League  on  December  30th,  1884,  and 
adopted  at  the  General  Conference,  held  at  Far- 
ringdon  Hall,  London,  on  July  5th,  18S5  "— 
presumably,  an  authoritative  document.  Take  the 
following  extract  from  it: 

"The  workers,  although  they  produce  all  the  wealth  of 
society,  have  no  control  over  its  productions  or  distribution  ; 
the  'people  who  are  the  only  really  organic  part  of  society,  are 
treated  as  a  mere  appendage  to  capital — as  a  part  of  its 
machinery.  This  must  be  altered  from  the  foundation;  the 
land,  the  capital,  the  machinery,  factories,  workshops,  stores, 
means  of  transit,  mines,  banking,  all  means  of  production  and 
distribution  of  wealth,  must  be  declared  and  ti-eated  as  tlie 

common   property   of    all Only   by    such    fundamental 

changes,  only  by  the  transformation  of  Civilisation  into  Social- 
ism, can  those  miseries  of  the  world  before-mentioned  be 
amended." 

Messrs.  William  Morris  and  Belfort  Bax,  who  are 
among  the  most  intelligent  of  the  Socialist  leaders, 
in  their  annotations  appended  to  this  document,  tell 
us,  ''  The  end  wliicli  true  Socialism  sets  before  us  is 
the  realisation  of  absolute  equalit}'  of  condition, 
helped  by  the  development  of  variety  of  capacity." 
Is  this  exposition  correct  ?  If  it  is,  surely,  Mr. 
Bradlaugh,  who  unites  to  strong  common  sense  the 
advantage  of  a  certain  legal  training,  is  not  much 
out  when  he  writes: 


"  I  understand  and  define  Socialism  as  (1)  denying  or  destroy- 
ing  all   individual   private  property  :    and  (2)  as  afiirming  that 


VIII.]        THE   aONI)E3INATION  OF  SOCIALISM.        191 

Society,  organised  as  the  State,  should  own  all  wealth,  direct  all 
lal)our,  and  compel  the  equal  distribution  of  all  produce.  I  under- 
stand a  Socialistic  State  to  be  (3)  that  State  in  which  everytliin..^ 
would  be  common  as  to  its  user  and  in  which  all  labour  would  C 
controlled  by  the  State,  which  from  the  common  stock  would 
maintain  the  labourer  and  would  take  all  the  produce  of  the  labour. 
That  is  (4)  I  identify  Socialism  with  Comnmnism."  ^^ 

Now  Avhat  are  we  to  say  to  this  nostrum,  where- 
by the  Socialistic  League  would  remedy  the  miseries 
of  the  world  ?       At  the  outset   it  is  open  to  this 
manifest  objection,  that  the  remedy  is  worse  than 
the  disease.     I  do  not  underrate  the  gravity  of  the 
disease,  as  will  appear  from  what  I  have  already 
said.     But  what  does  the  socialistic  proposal  really 
mean  ?      It   means   the    undoing   of   the   work    of 
civilisation.       For   in    what   does  tlie   progress   of 
European  society  consist?     It  consists  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  individual.    Among  our  Aryan  ancestors, 
in  the  earliest  stages  known  to  us  of  their  social 
organisation,  we  find  neither  personal  liberty,  nor 
its  most  characteristic   incident,  single    ownership. 
The  unit  of  the  public  order  is  not  the  individual, 
but  the  family,  whose  head  exercises  despotic  power 
over  its  members.    Not  several,  but  common  posses- 
sion, is  the  form  in  which  property  is  held.     For 
long  ages  the  unemancipated  son  differed  nothing 
from  a  slave.     The  history  of  Western  civilisatioi^ 
whatever  else  it  may  be,  is  certainly  the  history  of 
the  growth  of  personal  liberty  and  of  private  pro- 
perty.     And  the   two  things  are  most  intimately 

*  Socialism,  For  ami  Against,  by  Charles  Bradlaugh  and  Annie 
Besant,  p.  1. 


;    t 


192 


THE  ETHICS  OF  FIWVEBTY. 


[CH. 


VIII.] 


THE  DOCTliIXE  OF  AQUINAS. 


193 


connected,    for   property   is   but    liberty    realised. 
Socialism,  as  Proudlion  confessed,  -^is  apt  to  take 
its  assumptions  for  facts  ;    its  Utopias  for  institu- 
tions."     Its  Utopias,  realised,   would,  alas  !  mean 
barbarism.     And  what  can  be  more  false  than  some 
of    its    assumptions?      Take     one,    for    example, 
insisted  on  in  the  extract  which  I  gave  just  now 
from  the  Ilan'ifesto  of  the  Socialistic  League,  that 
'^  the  workers  produce  all  the  wealth  of  society." 
Does  not  capital,  then,  create  value  ?     Does  it  not 
render   human   labour   more    productive   by    pro- 
moting co-operation  and  by  the   use   of  improved 
machinery  ?     A  machine,  and  tlic  men  who  work 
it,  both  create  value  ;    and  both  the  labour  stored 
up    in    the    machine,  and   the    men    who   work  it, 
deserve   reward;    in  the   one  case  the  reward    is 
called  profits,  in  the  other  wages.     It  is  not  true 
that  "  the  workers  produce  all  the  wealtli  of  society ; " 
or  that  '^  living  labour  creates  all  value."     But  it  is 
true  that  the  Socialistic  theory  reduces  all  labour 
to  unskilled  labour.     It  is  true,  also,  that  Socialism 
is  in  direct  conflict  with  man's  natural  rights ;  and 
that  is  its  sufficient  condemnation.     It   is  fatal  to 
human  liberty :  for  it  is  the  negation  of  man's  most 
sacred  prerogative  to  be  himself,  to  live  out  his  own 
life.     Its  method  is  like  that  of  the  well-intentioned 
but  unwise  father,  who  is  related  by  Mr.  Samuel 
Weller  to  have   cut  off  his  son's  head,  in  order  to 
cure  him  of  squinting. 

Socialism  indeed,  if  we  consider  it  in   its  con- 


structive proposals,  is  but  one  of  the  many  expres- 
sions of  the  abounding  materialism  of  the  day.  It 
is  a  chapter,  and  a  very  ignoble  one,  in  Avhat  Mr. 
Carlyle  was  wont  to  call  "pig  philosophy,"  It  is 
devoid  of  any  true  notion  of  the  organic,  which  is 
essentially  rational  and  ethical.  It  would  reduce 
tlie  public  order  to  a  machine,  and  would  brino-  in 
an  era  of  universal  slavery,  with  a  modicum  of 
pig's  wash  for  all.  Shall  we  barter  our  birthridit 
of  liberty  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ?  And  such  a  mess  ! 
No :  the  realisation  of  the  socialistic  idea  must,  at 
any  cost,  be  prevented  :  even  if  we  have  to  seek  in 
the  gallows  and  the  sword  tlie  ultimate  answer  to 
its  votaries.  The  preservation  of  the  fair  frame 
of  civilisation  is  of  infinitely  more  account  than  are 
the  lives  of  a  horde  of  fools  and  fanatics. 


The  importance  of  Socialism  appears  to  me  to 
lie  not  in  its  crude  and  monstrous  theories,  but  in 
this ;  tliat,  to  quote  certain  words  of  the  late  Pro- 
fessor Ingram,  ^4t  is  alike  the  inevitable  and  in- 
dispensable expression  of  the  protest  of  the  workino- 
classes,  and  the  aspiration  after  a  better  order  of 
tilings."  But  wliat  is  the  foundation  on  which  that 
better  order  must  be  reared  ?  I  answer,  the  moral 
law.  Other  foundation  can  no  man  lay.  Aquinas 
goes  to  the  heart  of  the  matter  in  a  few  pregnant 
words,  which,  tliough  written  six  centuries  ago  are 
as  applicable,  now,  as  they  were  then :  for  the  truth 

o 


194 


THE  ETHICS  OF  rnOTETiTY. 


[en. 


;;.' 


VIII.] 


JUSTUM  PBETimi, 


195 


which  they  express  is  not  of  an  age,  but  for  all 
time.  ''  The  j^ossession  of  riches  is  not,  in  itself, 
unlawful,  if  the  order  of  reason  be  observed :  that 
is  to  say.  that  a  man  possess  justly  what  he  owns, 
and  that  he  use  it  in  a  proper  manner  for  himself 
and  others."*  Let  us  consider  a  little  what  this 
dictum  involves.  To  render  property  lawful — that 
is,  ethical,  rightful— a  man  must  possess  justly  what 
he  owns.  Justhf.  What  does  that  mean  ?  Does 
it  mean  that  a  man  is  warranted  by  the  moral  law, 
in  ct7iy  gain  which  he  may  make,  without  bringing 
himself  into  the  police  court?  That  is  a  very 
common  view,  and  is  very  generally  acted  upon. 
The  cheapening  of  commodities,  by  unrestricted 
competition,  has  been  the  guiding  idea  of  English 
manufacture,  and  of  English  commerce,  during  tlie 
last  half-ccnturv.  To  ^et  out  of  men  the  utmost 
exertion  of  which  they  are  capable,  for  the  smallest 
wages  which  they  can  be  induced  to  accept,  is  very 
widely  supposed  to  sum  up  the  whole  duty  of  an 
employer  toward  his  ''  hands."  We  have  forgotten 
that  these  ''hands"  are  men.  We  have  treated 
them  as  merely  animated  machines.  Well,  I  say, 
unhesitatingl}^,  that  to  pit  a  destitute  man  against 
his  destitute  fellows,  and  to   wring  from  him  his 


«    u 


Ea  qii^  exterius  possidentiir  necessaria  sunt  ad  sumptionom 
ciborum,  ad  ediicationem  prolis,  ad  sustentatlonem  faniilia?,  ot  ad 
alias  corporis  necessitates  ;  consequons  est  quod  nee  secundum  se 
etiaiu  div^itiarufii  possessio  est  illicita  si  ordo  rationis  servetur, 
quod  juste  homo  possideat  qua?  liabet,  et  quod  eis  debito  modo 
lUatur  ad  saam  et  aliorum  utilitateni."     Contra  Gentes,  lib.  3,  123. 


labour  for  the  scantiest  pittance  to  which  he  can 
be  ground  down,  is  wronr/.     The  necessity  of  the 
seller  does  not  make  it  right  to  underpay  him.     If 
I  give  him  less  than  ajustum  2^retium,  an  equitable 
price,  for  his  work,  I  do  in  fact  rob  him.      And 
this    is  at  once  the  most    common  and  the  most 
disgraceful  form  of  theft :  the  most  comnion,  for  it 
is  found  in  all  departments  of  life ;  the  most  dis- 
graceful, because  it  is  the  most  cowardly.     It  is  a 
duty  of  strict  justice  for  the  employer  to  give  to 
his  work-people  a  Justum  pretitim.     The  violation 
of  this  duty  is  reckoned  by  the   Catholic   Church 
among   the    sins   that    cry    to   heaven.      And  the 
measure   of   the  justum  pretium   is  the  means  of 
living  a  decent  life,  morally  and  materially ;  which 
includes  not  merely  food  and  clothino^,  house  and 
Jiome,  but   leisure   and   spiritual  cultivation  :    not 
merely,  as  the  schoolmen  speak,  hona  naturcB  neces- 
saria, but  also  hona  statui  necessaria.    But  the  very 
notion  of  a  justum  pretium  has  welLnigh  died  out 
of  the  popular  mind,  which  sums  up  its  code  of 
connnercial  morality  in  the  maxim  :   "  Buy  in  the 
cheapest  market  and  sell  in  the  dearest :  "  a  maxim 
involving  a  principle  that  would  justify  the  most 
atrocious  forms  of  ''sweating"  and  rackrenting. *    It 

*  The  following  very  sensible  and  suggestive  remarks  of  Mr. 
Hyndman,  written,  indeed,  in  another  connection,  may  fitly  be 
subjoined  hin-e :  ''  But  it  may  be  asked,  how  is  value  to  bo  deter- 
mined, save  by  competition  and  higgling  of  the  market?  Value 
is  n(a  so  determined  to-day.     Suj^ply  and  demand   only  regulate 

P2 


196 


THE  ETHICS  OF  PEOPEBTY, 


[CH. 


may,  however,  be  said:  ^^  Everywhere  throngliout 
nature,  variety  and  competition  are  the  conditions  of 
advance  :  the  struggle  for  existence,  the  survival  of 
the  fittest,  are  truths,  however  stern,  and  arc  ^not 
to  be  altered  by  whole  libraries  of  sentiment."     I 
reply  :    The  struggle  for  existence  is,  indeed,  the 
universal  rule  of  natm^e.     But  the  business  of  man, 
who  is  an  ethical  animal,  having  perception  of  right 
and  wrong,  justice  and  injustice,  is  to  moralise  that 
struggle.     Freedom  of  contract?     Good.     But  to 
cons'titute  freedom  of  contract  there  must  be  parity 
of   condition.      What  parity  of  condition  is  there 
between  the  replete  manufacturer  and  his  starvmg 
''  hand "  ?     I    say,    without    a   shadow    of    doubt, 
that  to  much  property  the  saying  of  Proudhon  is 

relative  values  of  commodities  over  short  periods  ;  cost  of  produc- 
tion-tlmt  is  the  average  quantity  of  social  human  lal)our  needed 
to  brino-  them  forward  for  exchange— governs  the  exchange  value 
of  the  mass   of  commodities   in   the  long   run.     A  letter  is  sent 
nearly  the  world  over  for  '2hd.,  no  matbn-  how  important  the  nature 
of  its  contents  or  how  anxious   the   sender  to   have  it  delivered; 
pnhlic  advantage  has  produced   an  international  post,  in  spite  of 
all  international  jealousies.     A  traveller  takes  a  passage  at  a  fixed 
cost   though,  maybe,  he  would  pay  fifty  times  the  sum  asked  rather 
than  not  ^o.  Even  in  cities  the  government,  or  the  municipalities, 
re-ulate  cab-fares   in   order  to  check  the   working  of  that  very 
Id-o-ling  of  the  market,  and  to  regulate  the  action  oi'  those  very 
supply  "^nd  demand,  and  caveat-emptor  maxims  which  middle-class 
economists  never  weary  of  proclaiming  as  the  law  of  all  laws,  not 
to  be  set  aside  without    positive   danger.     Here,  then,  we   may 
foresee  with  the  accuracy  of  scientific  knowledge    a   community  m 
which  the  social  forces  will  be  used  for  determinate   social   ends." 
The  Historical  Basis  of  Socialism,  p.  468. 


VIII.] 


THE  HIGHER  OWN  Eli  SHIP. 


197 


strictly  applicable  :  ''La  propriete  c'est  le  vol." 
'•  As  a  fact,  mucli  of  the  wealth  of  the  rich  classes 
in  modern  Europe  has  been  gathered  together,  and 
is  kept  up,  by  dreadful  deeds  of  cruelty,  extortion, 
and  fraud."  ^ 

But  suppose  that  a  man's  property  has  been 
justly  acquired.  To  render  his  possession  of  it 
valid,  according  to  the  moral  law,  tliere  lies  upon 
liim  the  obligation  of  employing  it  in  a  proper 
manner  for  himself  and  others.  Nothing  is  falser 
than  the  saying  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  do  what 
lie  likes  with  his  own.  A  man  has  not  aright  to  do 
wliat  lie  likes  with  his  own.  He  has  only  a  right  to  do 
what  he  ought  with  his  own  ;  which,  after  all,  is 
his  own  in  a  very  qualified  sense.  The  only  things 
which  a  man  can  in  strictness  call  his  own — and 
even  here  he  is  under  the  law  of  conscience — are 
his  spiritual,  intellectual,  and  physical  faculties. 
The  material  object  on  which  he  exercises  these 
faculties  is  subject  to  a  higher  ownership  than  his  ; 
to  the  indefeasible  title  of  the  human  race,  repre- 
sented to  him  by  the  community  in  which  he  lives. 
Of  the  material  surroundings  which  he  calls  ''mine," 
he  is  but  a  usufructuary,  a  trustee.  The  ultimate 
and  inalienable  ownership  of  what  Aristotle  called 
"  the  bounty  of  nature  "  is  in  the  human  race. 
Each  country  belongs,  in  the  last  resort,  to  its 
inhabitants  in  general ;  eajh  country,  with  all  that 
makes  it  a  country — not  merely  its  land,   but  ail 

*   Groundwork  of  Economics,  by  C  S.  Devas,  §  261. 


198 


THE  ETHICS  OF  FUOTEUTY. 


[oh. 


that  lias  been  taken  from  the  hand,  from  time  im- 
memorial, and  transformed  into  the  various  instru- 
ments  of   civilised   life.       The   community   is  the 
overlord  not  merely  of  the  possessor  of  the  sod,  but 
of  the  shopkeeper,  the  manufacturer,  the  banker. 
Mr.  Chamberlain's  doctrine  of  ^^ransom"  is  truerthan 
he  deems,  for  lie  does  not  carry  it  far  enough.    Not 
only  the  soil  of  the  country,  but  its  entire  accumu- 
lated wealth,  natural  and  fabricated,  is,  I  say,  ni 
the  last  resort,  the  property  of  the  country.     The 
individual  owner  of  any  portion   of  it  liolds  subject 
to  that  higher  title.     It  has  been  -well   observed  by 
Mr.  Mill,  ''  Tliat  the  earth  belongs,  first  of  all,  to 
the    inhabitants   of    it;    that    every   person    alive 
ought   to    have  a  subsistence  before  any  one  has 
more ;    that  whosoever  works  at   any  useful  thing 
ought  to  be  properly  fed  and   clothed  before  any 
one,  able  to  work,  is  allowed  to  receive  the  bread  of 
idleness — these  are  moral   axioms,"  *     Yes :  these 
are  moral  axioms  ;  and  they  carry  us  a  long  way. 
But  further.     Property  means   exclusion.     But  has 
any  one  the  right  absolutely  to  shut  off  others  from 
the  benefit  of  that  which  is  his  ?     Assuredly  not. 
Solidarity  is  the  law  of  the  human  race.     No  man 
livetli  to  himself.    The  very  constitution  of  civilised 
life  gives  rise  to  the  duty  that  ownership  must  be 
made  a  common  good  to   the    community.     It    is 
worthy  of  notice  that  in  tlie  middle  ages  the  lidu- 
ciary    nature    of    property    was    emphatically    re- 

*  Dissertations  and  Discussions,  vol.  ii.  p.  385. 


III.] 


u 


THE  OLD  ORDER  CHANGETU, 


»> 


199 


cognised.  Land  was  then  almost  the  only  form  of 
wealth.  And,  as  we  all  knov/,  to  the  possession  of 
land,  duties  were  strictly  attached;  and  those  duties 
were  rigorously  exacted.  This  principle  must  be 
recognised,  in  respect  of  wealth  generally  ;  recog- 
nised, and  if  need  be,  legally  enforced. 

So  much,  assuredly,  is  involved  in  the  observa- 
tion of  the  order  of  reason,  regarding  this  great 
question  of  property.  And,  as  assuredly,  nothing 
can  be  less  reasonable  than  the  7'egime  of  competi- 
tion and  individualism,  in  support  of  which  so  many 
ponderous  tomes  of  nonsense,  dignified  as  political 
economy,  have  been  inflicted  upon  a  long-suffering 
world.  That  regime  is  passing  away.  Socialism 
means  so  much.  And  the  task  which  lies  before  the 
world  is  the  re-organisation  of  industry  upon  an 
ethical  basis.  The  abuses  of  the  old-world  organ- 
isation were  manifest.  They  have  disappeared. 
But  the  organisation  has  disappeared  too.  The  old 
fellowship  of  labour  is  a  recollection  of  the  past. 
The  new  fellowship  of  labour  is  the  hope  of  tiie 
future,^     The  era  is  surely  approaching  when,  in 

'■'  It  has  been  observed  by  Mr.  Carlyle— and  they  are  among 
the  wisest  words  Avhicli  he  ever  wrote — "  Xi  no  time,  since  the 
beginnings  of  society,  Avas  the  lot  of  the  ....  dumb  millions  of 
toilers  so  utterly  unbearable  as  it  is,  oven  in  the  days  now  passing 
over  us.  It  is  not  to  die,  or  even  to  die  of  hunger,  that  makes  a 
man  wretched.  But  it  is  to  live  miserable,  we  know  not  why  ; 
to  work  sore,  and  yet  gain  nothing  ;  to  be  ...  .  isolated,  unrelated, 
girt  in  with  a  cold,  universal  laissez-faivc.  Past  and  Present, 
p.  234. 


200 


THE  ETHICS  OF  FEOFERTY. 


[cii. 


Mr.    Herbert   Spencer's  liappy  words,    ''  One  man 
will  not  be  suffered  to  enjoy  witliout  working,  that 
wliicli  another  produces  without   enjoying;"  when 
what  Mr.  Mill  justly  calls  'Hhe  great  social  evil  of 
a  non-labouring  class  "  will  no  longer  be  tolerated  ; 
when  the  true  answer  to  Socialisnij  with  its  bar- 
barous schemes  for  tlie  confiscation  of  capital,  will 
be  given  by  a  vast  extension  of  co-operation  which 
will  make  every  labourer  a  capitalist.      Co-opera- 
tion !     That  word  is  tlie  key  to  the  solution  of  the 
great   problem.      The    struggle    of   clashes,    which 
practically  divides    England   into    two    nations,  is 
due,  we  are  often  told,   to  a   change  in  economic 
conditions.      The  introduction   of    machinery   and 
steam,  it  is  said,  has  brouglit  about  the  vast  conflict 
between  capital  and  labour.    Machinery  and  steam  ! 
Chanire  in   economic  conditions !     There    is   more 
than  that  in  the  disastrous,  the  suicidal   struggle,  of 
which  strikes  are  the  practical  issue.     There  is  this: 
that   our   industrial   system   has  been  based  upon 
competition,  while  it  should  have  been  based   upon 
co-operation. 

The  present  industrial  chaos  is  due  to  the  lack  of 
organic  unity.  The  task  which  lies  before  us  is  the 
restoration  of  such  unity.  And  the  question  of  tlie 
day  is  whether,  or  rather,  how  far,  the  State  should 
undertake  that  task.  To  represent  every  regula- 
tion of  industry  by  public  authority  as  an  infringe- 
ment of  industrial  liberty  is  absurd.  The  State  may 
rightly  check  monopolies,  curb  and  restrain  compe- 


VIII.] 


THE  TASK  BEFOUE   US. 


201 


tition,  limit  hours  of  labour,  and  in  a  thousand 
other  ways  fulfill  its  duty  of  promoting  the  pros- 
perity of  all  its  members,  and  especially  of  the 
necessitous.  Thus,  to  give  one  example  only,  the 
manual  toiler  serves  not  only  himself  and  his 
immediate  employer,  but  his  country.  He  has, 
therefore,  a  right  against  his  country  for  a  decent 
provision — not  imprisonment  in  a  workhouse — when 
he  is  past  toil.  And  in  discharging  its  duty  in  sucli 
respects,  the  State  really  advances  individual  liberty. 
It  promotes  that  ^^  moral  freedom  "  which  we  may 
agree  with  Professor  Green  in  regarding  as  the  end 
of  political  organisation.  But  while  allowing,  or 
rather,  insisting  upon,  all  this,  I  cannot  but  think 
that  even  the  more  reasoned  and  scientific  kinds  of 
State  Socialism,  advocated  by  German  thinkers  of 
no  mean  ability,  would  paralyse  much  that  is  best 
in  human  society.  It  seems  to  me  not  easy  to  over- 
rate the  disastrous  effect  upon  national  life  which 
must  result,  in  proportion  as  the  State  assumes  tlie 
functions  of  the  father,  the  master,  the  guild,  tlie 
church.  I  believe  the  new  industrial  organisation 
which  the  Avorld  must  have,  will  be  a  natural 
growth,  not  an  artificial  machine ;  a  growth  rooted 
in  the  essential  needs  of  huiium  nature,  wliicli  are 
ethical  needs;  in  the  regulative  principles  of  human 
action,  which  are  ethical  principles;  in  ^^  the  mighty 
hopes  that  make  us  men,"  Avhich  are  ethical  hopes. 
So  much  seems  to  me  certain.  So  much,  and  no 
more.     ''  Prudens  futuri  temporis  exitmii  caliginosa 


202 


THU  ETHICS  OF  PBOPEETY. 


[CH. 


nocte  premit  Deus."  The  wisest  can  but  discern 
dimly  the  shadowy  outlines  of  the  new  order :  ''the 
baby  figure  of  the  giant  mass  of  things  to  come  at 
large."  It  is  enough  for  us  to  look  for,  and  to 
hasten  unto,  that  ampler  day : 

"  Enough,  if  something  from  onr  hands  have  power 
To  live,  and  work,  and  serve  the  future  hour." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    ETHICS    OP    MARllIAGE. 

A  VETERAN  statesman,  in  conversation  with  me 
a  few  years  ago,  spoke  of  marriage  as  ^'the 
stumbling-stone  of  the  age."  I  replied:  ''  So  much 
the  worse  for  the  age,  for  an  age  Avhich  falls  upon 
that  stone  shall  be  broken."  I  propose  to  offer, 
here,  some  considerations  upon  this  grave  topic. 

Our  existing  civilisation  unquestionably  rests 
upon  marriage,  as  the  Christian  religion  has  shaped 
it.  For  a  thousand  years,  while  that  order  of 
things  which  we  call  Christendom  endured,  the 
Catholic  Church  was  the  great  ethical  instructor  of 
the  progressive  societies  of  the  western  world.  The 
key  note  of  her  teaching  was  duty — the  whole  duty 
of  man,  in  all  the  relations  of  life.  And  nowhere 
was  that  teaching  clearer,  loftier,  and  more  fruitful, 
than  in  her  doctrine  concerning  matrimony.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  she  recreated  marriage. 
That  must,  beyond  controversy,  be  conceded  to 
her,  as  a  special  and  unique  achievement.  I  do  not 
undervalue  what  other  great  religions  of  the  world 


I 


204 


THE  ETHICS   OF  MAEEIAGE. 


[cii. 


have  done  to  purify  and  elevate  domestic  life.  I 
am  not  insensible  to  the  cliarm  of  the  pictures 
which  Sanscrit  e])ic  poetry  presents  to  us,  of  tlie 
purity  and  simplicity  of  the  primitive  Aryan  home. 
I  recoirnise  the  c^reat  work  which  the  Ikiddliist 
reformation  did  for  woman,  making  her  tlie  com- 
panion of  lier  husband,  and  assigning  to  her  a 
freedom  unattained  by  her  in  the  otlier  oriental 
systems.  I  confess  liow  mucli  even  Islam  effected 
for  the  protection  of  the  weaker  sex,  by  curbing 
and  curtailing  the  unbounded  license  vvliich  its 
prophet  found  among  tlie  deeply-sensual  Arab 
tribes,  to  wliom  his  revelation  was  first  addressed. 
Still,  it  remains,  that  nowhere  is  the  immeasurable 
superiority  of  Christianity  to  the  rest  of  the  world's 
creeds  more  clearly  manifested  than  in  its  ideal 
and  law  of  matrimony. 

AVhen  the  church  first  entered  upon  her  struggle 
with  the  decadent  Paganism  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
the  archaic  form  of  marriage,  by  which  the  wife 
came  ^' under  the  hand  of  her  husband"  (as  the 
legal  phrase  was),  had  become  practically  obsolete. 
The  newer  form,  which  made  of  it  a  voluntary  con- 
jugal society,  terminable  by  divorce  at  the  pleasure 
of  either  party,  was  Avell-nigh  universal.  Every 
schoolboy  who  has  read  his  Horace  knows  what 
came  of  it.  The  work  of  the  church  was  to  heal 
the  cancerous  sore  which,  in  the  judgment  of  the 
greatest  of  Latin  liistorians,  was  eating  out  Eome's 
moral  life.     Her  remedy  was  the  proclamation  of 


IX.] 


THE  LAW  OF  MONOGAMY. 


205 


monogamy,  holy  and  indissoluble.  The  law  had 
been  delivered  by  her  Divine  Founder  in  all  its 
strictness:  '^Whosoever  putteth  away  his  wife,  and 
marrieth  another,  committeth  adultery ;  and  who- 
soever marrieth  her  that  is  put  away  from  her 
husband,  committeth  adultery."  The  principle 
underlying  the  law,  of  the  spiritual  equality 
of  woman  with  man,  had  been  formulated  bv  St. 
Paul:  "In  Jesus  Christ  there  is  neither  male  nor 
female."  It  was  the  task  of  the  church  to  preach 
to  the  new  civilisation  this  law,  to  indoctrinate  it 
with  this  principle.  Of  what  consummate  difficulty 
the  task  was,  may  be  judged  from  the  vacillations 
of  lioman  jurisprudence,  even  after  Clu^istianity  had 
received  imperial  recognition.  Na}^,  upon  one  point, 
the  church  herself  gave  no  certain  sound  for  long 
a^res.  Even  the  most  authoritative  of  her  earlier 
doctors  hesitate  in  their  judgment  respecting  a 
husband  who  puts  away  an  unfaithful  wife  and  re- 
marries. "  He  merely  commits  a  venial  sin,"  *  St. 
Augustine  says,  in  one  of  his  latest  writings — a 
nmcli  more  lenient  view  than  tliat  expressed  by  him 
in  earlier  works.  St.  Ambrose  goes  further,  in  o  :e 
place,  although  he  elsewhere  gives  a  contrary 
opinion,  and  declares  that  such  a  remarriage  is 
no  sin  at  all.f  They  Avere  Avrong.  Grradually,  but 
surely,  the  sterner  and  loftier  ideal  of  the  Christian 

*  "  111  ipsis  diviuis  sententiis  ita  obscurum  est  .  .  .  ut  qnantiiiu 
existiiuo  veiiialitcr  il)i  qiiisquo  fallatur."  De  Fide  et  Open'bus,  c.  19. 

I  "  Viro  licet  uxorem  dncerc  si  diiniserit  iixorem  peccantem." 
Comment,  in  Ejnst.  I.  ad  Corinth. 


206 


THE  ETniCS   OF  MABFIAGE. 


[CH. 


law  was  apioreliended  by  the  church  and  asserted 
by  the  Roman  pontiffs.  And  in  the  opening  middle 
ao-es  we  find  the  absolute  indissolubility  of  marriage, 
when  once  rio-htlv  contracted,  save  by  the  death  of 
one  of  the  contracting  parties,  firmly  established  in 

tlie  canon  law. 

To   that  principle  the  Catliolic  Church  has  ever 
borne  unflinching  testimony.  Divorce  in  the  modern 
sense  {cUvortlum  a  vinculo  matrimo7ii'i)  has  no  place 
within  her  fold.  Noteworthy  is  it,  how  in  the  midst 
of  the  scandals  and   offences  which  from   time  to 
V    time  have  disgraced  the  apostolic  chair,  the  popes 
^\''^  have    ever   stood   forth    as   the    champions    of   the 
f  ^^^    sanctity,   unity,    and   indissolubility    of   marriage; 
■    ^^'    /the  bad  popes,  no  less  than  the  good.     Let  me,  in 
passing,  merely  point  to  two  conspicuous  examples. 
1  do  not  entertain  much  respect  for  the  personal 
character  of  Clement  YII.     But  it  is  undeniable 
that  every  fresh  piece  of  evidence  made  accessible 
to  us,  from  the  English  Public  Record  Office,  and 
elsewhere,  exhibits  him  as  actuated  by  a  liigh  sense 
of  duty  in  judging  the  matrimonial  cause  of  Henry 
VIII.     From  the  point  of  view  of  secular  interest, 
Clement  had  everthing  to  gain  by  declaring  the  in- 
validity of  the  King's  first  marriage;    everything 
to  lose  by  upholding  the  rights  of  the  blameless 
Katherine.      He    lost    a   kingdom    from    Catholic 
xx\\\{^j' — a  kingdom   destined  to  grow  into  the  im- 
])erial  fabric    of    British   greatness.     But  to   suffer 
even  that  loss,  rather  than  prostitute  the  sacrament 


ix.J     THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH  AND  MATBIMONY.     207 

of  matrimony  to  the  lust  of  a  tyrant,  must  be  ac- 
counted gain.  Again,  our  own  century  supplies  a 
not  less  striking  instance  of  Rome's  zealous  guar- 
dianship of  this  palladium  of  society.  What  a 
spectacle  to  men  and  angels  does  Pius  VII.,  that 
holy  and  humble  man  of  heart,  present,  confront- 
ing, in  this  sacred  cause,  the  modem  Titan,  to 
whose  magnetic  power  he  was  so  keenly  sensitive'. 
Jerome  Bonaparte,  brother  of  the  first  Napoleon, 
had  married  an  American  Protestant  girl  of  modest 
station,  and  the  Emperor  besought  the  Pope  to 
declare  the  marriage  void,  alleging  various  bad 
reasons  for  its  uncanonicity.  Pius  VII.,  in  a  docu- 
ment well  worthy  of  perusal — for  it  sums  up  com- 
pendiously the  Catholic  doctrine  of  matrimony — 
goes  tbrougli  tlie  Emperor's  pleas,  one  by  one,  and 
pronounces  them  worthless.  God  had  joined  that 
man  and  that  woman,  had  made  of  those  twain  one 
flesh  ;  he  dared  not  put  them  asunder.  Blandish- 
ments and  threats  alike  fail  to  move  ''the  inflexible 
sweetness  "  of  the  aged  pontiff.  Come  what  may, 
lie  will  not  be  unfaithful  to  the  Supreme  Judge, 
whose  apostle  he  is,  in  whose  name  he  speaks. 
And,  as  we  know,  he  received  an  apostolic  reward. 


Within  the  Catholic  Church,  marriage  is,  of  course, 
what  it  was.  But  the  State  is  no  longer  Catholic  ; 
is  no  longer  Christian.  I  will  explain  what  I  mean. 
It  was  said  in  bygone  days,  l)y  a  very  learned  judge. 


? 


208 


THE  ETHICS   OF  MAErilAGE. 


[CH, 


tliat  Christlaiiity  was  part  and  parcel  of  the  law  of 
Eno:land.  But,  in  truth,  the  old-world  view  of  the 
Christian  State  went  far  beyond  that.  I  do  not 
know  who  has  more  precisely  and  accurately  ex- 
pressed it  tlian  Jererny  Taylor : 

"  God  reigns  over  all  Cliristendom,  jast  as  he  did  over  tlie 
Jews  .  .  .  ."when  it  happens  that  a  kino-dom  is  converted  to 
Christianity,  the  commonwealth  is  made  a  chnrch,  the  o-entile 
priests  are  Christian  bishops,  and  the  subjects  of  the  kingdom 
are  the  servants  of  Christ.  The  religion  of  the  nation  is  termed 
Christian,  and  the  law  of  the  nation  made  a  part  of  the  religion. 
There  is  no  change  of  government,  ])nt  that  Christ  is  made 
kino-  and  the  temporal  power  his  substitute."  * 

Such,  unquestionably,  was  the  conception  of  the 
public  order  formerly  entertained  by  Anglicanism, 
by  Presbyterianism,  by  Puritanism,  as  by  Catholi- 
cism.     How  strange  does  it  seem   to   us   in   this 
nineteenth  century  !     If  there  is  any  fact  clearer 
than    another   about    this   age,    it   is   the    divorce 
between  religion   and    civil  government,   which  is 
evervwhere  taking  place  in  the  civilised  world,  and 
which  has,  in  large  measure,  been  already  accom- 
plished.   The  secularisation  of  the  State,  I  say,  is  a 
most    marked   characteristic  of   the    age  in  which 
we  live.     One  result  of  it  is  the  introduction  every- 
where of  what  is  called  civil  marriage— the   substi- 
tution   of   a   purely    secular   contract   for   the    old 
sacramental  foundation  of  the  social   order.     And 
with  the  religious  view  of   wedlock,   are  more  or 

*  Life  of  CJu-istj  Introduction. 


IX.]         '^FBEE   THOUGHT''   ANL   MATlilMONY, 


209 


less  disappearing  those  distinctive  attributes  where- 
with religion  had  invested  it.  I  need  not  say  how 
largely,  during  recent  years,  the  old  law  of  marriage 
as  it  prevailed  in  Christendom,  while  Christendom 
existed,  has  been  relaxed  in  England,  in  France, 
in  the  United  States  of  America.  In  the  Protestant 
parts  of  Germany,  where  the  influence  of  Luther- 
anism,  from  the  first,  has  been  strongly  hostile  to 
Catholic  matrimonial  traditions,  the  nuptial  tie  has 
become  a  mere  cobweb.  I  was  assured,  the  other 
day,  that  at  a  recent  dinner  party  in  one  of  the 
provinces  of  Prussia,  five  out  of  eiglit  ladies  present 
were  the  divorced  wives  cf  one  of  the  guests. 

But,  as  we  all  know,  even  such  light  bonds  aj^pear 
to  some  publicists,  both  in  America  and  in  Europe, 
too  heavy.  These  are  they— I  have  spoken  of 
theni  in  an  earlier  portion  of  this  work— who, 
starting  with  the  proposition  that  marriage  is  an 
antiquated  institution,  belonging  to  an  outworn 
religion,  the  tomb  of  love,  and  a  source  of  stupidity 
and  ugliness  to  the  liuman  race,  would  summarily 
abolish  it.  Let  us,  in  this  connection,  listen  to  Mr. 
Karl  Pearson,  as  he  expresses  himself  in  his  very 
interesting  work,  The  Ethic  of  Free  Thought: 

"  Legalised  life-long  monogamy  is  in  human  history  a  thing 
but  of  yesterday,  and  no  unprejudiced  person,  however  much  it 
may  suit  his  own  tastes,  can  suppose  it  a  final  form.   ...  A 

new  sex   relationship    will  ....  replace  the  old The 

socialistic  movement,  with  its  new  morality,  and  the  movement 
for   sex    equality,    must    surely    and    rapidly   undermine    our 

.  .  The  sex 


current    marriage    customs    and    marriage  laws 


210 


THE  ETHICS    OF  MAIililAGE 


[CH. 


relationship  of    the  future  will  not  be  regarded  as  a  union  for 
the  birth   of  children,  but   as   the   closest  form  of  friendship 
between  man  and  woman.  ...   So  long  as  it  does  not  result  m 
children,  we  hold  that  the  State  of  the  future  will  in  no  wise 
interfere  ;  but  when  it  does  result  in  children,  then  the  State 
will  have  a  right  to  interfere,  and  this   on  two   grounds  :  first, 
because  the  question  of  population  bears  on  the  happiness  of 
society,    as    a   Avhole ;    and,     secondly,    because   child-bearing 
enforces,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  interval,  economic   dependence 
upon  the  woman.  ...   Sex  relationship,  both   as  to  form  and 
substance,  ought  to  be  a  pure  question  of  taste,  a  simple  matter 
of    agreement,   between  the   man    and   the    woman,  in    winch 
neither  society  nor  the  State  Avould  have  any  need  or  right  to 
interfere.  .  .   .   Children  apart,  it   is   unbearable    that    church 
or  society  should  in  any  official  form  interfere  with  lovers.  .   .  . 
Such,   then,   seems   to    me  the   socialistic   solution  of    the   sex 
problem.     Every  man  and  woman  Avould  probably  ultimately 
choose  a   lover  from  their  friends  ;    but  the  men  and  women 
who,  being  absolutely  free,  would  choose  more  than  one,  wouhl 
cei*tainly  be  the  exceptions."  * 


Commending  to  the  careful  consideration  of  my 
readers  this  social  forecast  of  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  and  zealous  of  English  ''  advanced 
thinkers,''  I  proceed  to  inquire  whether  any  need 
for  a  new  solution  of  what  he  calls  ^'the  sex  pro- 
blem" really  exists.  Mr.  Karl  Pearson,  of  course, 
assumes  that  Christianity  is  hopelessly  discredited. 
Well,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  let  us  suppose  that 
this  is  so.  Does  it  follow  that  the  doctrine  con- 
cerning right  and  wrong  in  sexual  relations,  which, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  modern  world  has  received 

-  Pp.  1  a  1-443. 


' 


IX.]      THE  SOURCE    OF  CHllISTIAN  MORALITY.     211 

from  Christianity,  is  also  discredited  ?  I  reply. 
Most  certainly  not.  The  ethics  taught  by  Chris- 
tianity are  not,  as  Mr.  John  Morley  somewhere  calls 
them,  "  a  mere  appendage  to  a  set  of  theological 
mysteries."  They  are  independent  of  those  mys- 
teries, and  would  subsist  to  all  eternity  though 
Christianity  and  every  other  religion  should  vanish 
away.  The  moral  law  is  ascertained,  not  from 
the  announcements  of  prophets,  apostles,  evangelists, 
but,  as  I  have  insisted,  at  length,  in  a  previous 
chapter,  from  a  natural  and  permanent  revelation 
of  the  reason.  '' Natural  reason,"  says  Suarez,  in 
his  great  treatise,  J)e  Legihiis^  ''  indicates  wdiat  is 
in  itself  good,  or  bad  for  man."*'  The  great  funda- 
mental truths  of  ethics  are  necessary^  like  the  great 
fundamental  truths  of  mathematics.  They  do  not 
proceed  from  the  arbitrary  will  of  God.  They  are 
unchangeable,  even  by  the  fiat  of  the  Omnipotent. 
The  moral  precejjts  of  Christianity  do  not  derive 
their  validity  from  the  Christian  religion.  They 
are  not  a  corollary  from  its  theological  creed.  It 
is  mere  matter  of  fact,  patent  to  every  one  who 
will  look  into  his  Bible,  that  Jesus  Christ  and  his 
apostles  left  no  code  of  scientific  ethics.  The 
Gospels  and  Epistles  do  not  yield  even  the  elements 
of  such  a  code.  Certain  it  is  that  when,  in  the 
expanding  Christian  society,  the  need  arose  for  an 
ethical   synthesis,  recourse   was   had  to  the  inex- 

*  L.  ii.  c.  6,  n.  8. 

p2 


212 


THE  ETHICS    OF  MAiaUAOE. 


[CH. 


liaustible    fountains    of    wisdom    opened    by    the 
Hellenic  mind  ;  to  those 

•'  ^lellitluoiis  streams  tliat  watered  all  the  scliools 
Of  Academics,  old  and  new  ;  with  thcr^e 
Suniamed  Peri[)atetics,  and  tlie  sect 
E})icurean,  and  tlie  Stoic  severe.*' 


The  clearness,  the  precision  of  psychological 
analysis,  which  distino-uish  the  ethics  of  the  Catholic 
schools,  are  due  more  to  Aristotle  and  Plato,  than 
to  Hebrew  prophets  or  Christian  apostles.  What 
the  Christian  religion  did  for  morality,  was  chiefly 
to  touch  it  Avith  celestial  fire,  to  vivify  it  by  the 
idea  of  self-sacrifice,  and  to  point  to  tlie  Supreme 
Example  of  self-sacrifice;  to  enable  man  ^' to  erect 
himself  above  himself,"  by  exhibiting  a  standard 
of  perfection,  and  by  supplying  su])ernatural  motives 
for  the  imitation  of  that  standard. 

So  much  concerning  Christianity  and  ethics  in 
general.  And  now,  of  the  ethics  of  marriage  in 
particular.  The  work  of  Christianity  for  mankind 
is  often  spoken  of  as  an  emancipation.  ^'  The 
liberty  wherewith  Christ  has  made  you  free,"  says 
St.  Paul.  That  liberty  results  from  the  subjugation 
of  the  lower  self,  the  self  of  the  x)assions  and  animal 
nature;  from  the  enfranchisement  of  the  higher 
self,  of  the  rational,  spiritual,  divine  element  within 
us.  Herein  lies  the  true  progress  of  mankind.  And 
I  claim  for  Christianity  that  it  has  been  incompar- 
ably the  greatest  factor  in  that  progress;  that  it  has 


IX.] 


CHRISTIANITY  AND   WOMAN. 


213 


done  more  than  anything  else  to  vindicate  the  fact 
and  the  rights  of  human  personality.  '^  Homo  res 
sacra  homini."  Why  this  sacredness  ?  Because 
man  is  a  person,  not  a  mere  animal.  And  what 
Christianity  has  done,  in  this  respect,  for  man,  it 
has  done  even  more  emphatically  for  woman.  The 
earliest  form  of  marriage  known  to  us — as  Mr. 
McLennan  has  shown  in  a  very  learned  chapter  of 
his  well-known  work,  it  seems  to  have  prevailed 
universally— was  that  in  which  the  bride  was 
obtained  by  capture ;  her  volition  counting  for 
nothing,  her  consent  not  even  sought.  Then,  she 
was  accounted  a  mere  chattel.  Now,  she  is  reco"-- 
nised  as  a  person ;  her  liberty  inviolable  ;  her  will 
free;  to  be  won,  she  must  be  wooed.  Marriage 
is  accounted  as  a  contract,  subject  to  the  ethical 
rules  that  govern  all  contracts.  Woman,  like  man, 
has  shared  in  that  progress  from  status  to  contract 
in  which  social  development  mainly  consists,  and 
which  Christianity  has  unquestionably  done  much 
to  forward. 

But  Christianity  has  done  something  more  for 
woman  than  merely  to  vindicate  her  personality. 
I  have  elsewhere  remarked  that  it  changed  men's 
lives  by  changing  their  ideal  of  life.  It  is  matter 
of  history  how  largely  that  ideal  was  influenced 
by  the  culttis  of  the  Virgin  Mother :  ^^  the  mother 
of  fair  love,  and  of  fear,  and  of  knowledge,  and  of 
holy  hope."  All  that  is  most  distinctive  in  Chris- 
tian civilisation  is  bound  up  with   its  elevation  of 


214 


THE  ETHICS   OF  MABBTAGE. 


[CH. 


women.  And  not  its  least  distinctive  feature  is 
the  value  which  it  sets  upon  tlie  virtue  of  chastity, 
whether  in  the  virginal  or  in  the  married  state. 
The  conception  idealised  in  the  Madonna  would 
have  been  absolutely  unintelligible  to  the  ancients. 
''  Born  of  a  woman  "  is  the  true  account  of  the 
modern  ''home,''  with  all  its  moralising  influences. 
We  may  indeed  say  that  the  j^eculiarity  specially 
differentiating  the  Christian  from  the  pre-Christian 
family  is  that  it  is  founded  on  woman,  not  on 
man. 

Marriaf^e  is  something]:  more  than  a  mere  con- 
tract.  We  may  put  aside  the  ecclesiastical  view 
of  it.  We  may  reject  altogether  the  considerations 
which  led  St.  Paul  to  call  it  fieya  [ivcrrijpiov,  a  great 
sacrament.  Quite  apart  from  that  view,  from  tliose 
considerations,  we  must  so  account  of  it.  For 
it  is  a  syndjol  of  the  mystery  whereby  our  spiritual 
life  is  joined  to  our  bodily  frames.  Nay,  it  is 
more  than  that.  It  is  the  outward,  visible,  pre- 
eminently sensuous  means  whereby  we  attain  to 
the  inward  spiritual  grace  of  the  purest  joys,  the 
most  imselfish  affections,  that  this  world  offers.  It  is, 
soto  speak,  a  natural  sacrament,  of  which  tlie  husband 
and  the  wife  are  the  ministers.  It  is  tlie  accom- 
plishment of  the  man's  manhood  and  of  the  woman's 
womanhoorl,  tlie  blending  of  two  personalities  in  a 
^  V  ^  ,  ^  social  organism  embracing  their  whole  existences, 
^'^ nj^  /^  ^^no  longer  twain  but  one."  But  the  personalities, 
f  *'        though  equal,  are  diverse.     We  speak  of  the  '' dis- 


p 


*^<' 


.f 


I 


t^f 


/ 


t 


IX.] 


THE   OLD  PLATONIC  FABLE. 


215 


abilities  "  of  woman's  sex  ;  and  rightly.  There  are 
disabilities  which  result  from  the  corporal  confor- 
mation of  woman ;  there  are  limits  fixed  by  her 
physical  constitution  ;  there  are,  and  there  always 
must  be,  fundamental  differences  between  her 
habitual  occupations  and  tliose  of  men.  More, 
there  arc  far-reaching  psychical  differences.  The 
old  Platonic  fable  that  the  woman  is  the  other 
half  of  the  man,  is  profoundly  true.  She  is  the 
complement  of  him,  and  he  of  her. 


•'  He  is  the  half  part  of  a  blessed  man 
Left  to  be  finished  bv  snch  as  she  ; 
And  she,  a  fair  divided  excellence 
Whose  fulness  of  perfection  lies  in  him. 


?) 


Fecundity  is  the  special  gift  of  womanhood.  Nor 
is  maternity  its  only,  or  its  chief,  manifestation. 
The  wife  is  ^Hhe  fountain  of  life"  in  the  house- 
hold ;  her  function  is  to  renew,  to  reanimate,  to 
revivify  her  consort  in  the  struggle  for  existence, 
the  battle  of  life.  It  has  been  well  observed  by 
Michelet:  '^La  mission  de  la  femme  (plus  que  la 
generation  meme)  c' est  deref aire  le  coeur  de  I'liomme. 
Protegee,  nourrie  par  lui,  elle  le  nourrit  d'amour. 
L'amour  c'est  son  travail  propre."  *  The  whole 
matter  has  been  summed  up  by  one  whom  I  must 
account  the  most  philosophical  of  living  poets, 
and  the  most  poetical  of  living  philosophers.    And 

*  U Amour ^  p.  17. 


216 


THE  ETHICS    OF  MAUEIAGE. 


[ 


CH. 


familiar  as  his  lines  are,  tliey  will   bear  citation 
here  : 

"  For  woman  is  not  nndevclopt  man 
But  diverse  ;  could  we  make  her  as  the  man, 
Sweet  love  were  slain  :  liis  dearest  bond  is  this, 
Not  like  to  like,  but  like  in  difference. 
Distinct  in  individualities, 
But  like  each  other  ev*n  as  those  who  love." 

If  such  be  the  true  ideal  of  marriage,  what  are 
its  ethics?  I  have  already  observed  tliat  as  a 
contract  it  is  governed  by  those  great  principles 
prescribed  by  reason,  for  the  regulation  of  obliga- 
tions which  touch  the  merely  material  interests  of 
life.  As  a  state  of  life,  involving  the  fusion  of 
personalities  so  distinct,  and  fraught  with  conse- 
quences most  momentous  to  both,  and  to  society, 
its  unity  and  indissolubility  issue  from  the  nature 
of  things  in  their  ethical  relations.  Its  basis  is  in 
the  Absolute : 

*'  Sich  hinzupfeben  ganz  und  eine  Wonne 
Zu  fiihlcn,  tlie  ewii^  sein  muss  !" 

What  means  that  thought  of  eternity  which  is 
ever  present  Avhen  men  and  women  love  their 
deepest  and  truest  r  It  means  that  the  transient 
intoxication  of  passion  is  justified  to  reason  by  its 
place  in  the  eternal  order  of  the  universe.  Let  us 
consider  this  for  a  moment.  The  moral  law  is  a 
])rinciple  of  self-realisation.  Its  imperious  dictate, 
the  categorical  imperative  of  duty,  arises  from  the 


IX.] 


THE   DIVINE  ORIGINAL. 


217 


relation  of  reason  to  itself,  as  its  own  end.  Ethical 
action  is  the  achievement  by  the  self-conscious  indi- 
vidual of  the  true  purpose  of  his  being,  the  bringing 
his  will  into  harmony  with  that  Universal  Reason 
of  which  the  moral  law  is  the  expression.  It  was 
to  the  moral  law — a  part  of  that  law  of  nature  which 
is  the  ideal  pattern,  ever  to  be  kept  before  us — that 
the  Divine  Founder  of  Christianity  appealed  when 
He  formulated  His  doctrine  of  marria^re.  The 
Mosaic  legislation  witnessed  to  the  sanctity  of  the 
nuptial  bond.  But  imperfectly.  Not  on  every 
light  occasion,  on  every  frivolous  pretext,  did  the 
Hebrew  prophet  allow  a  man  to  put  away  his  wife. 
No.  There  must  be  a  public  process  ;  there  must 
1)0  recourse  to  legal  ministers,  presumably  wise  and 
prudent  men,  who,  before  drawing  up  the  instru- 
ment necessary  for  the  separation,  might  reasonably 
be  expected  to  counsel  reconciliation.  But  Clnist 
recurs  to  the  divine  original,  to  the  ideal  pattern 
of  the  institution,  ^^from  the  beginning"  in  the 
counsels  of  Eternal  Reason.  ^^Aman  shall  cleave 
to  liis  wife;  "  ''  they  twain  shall  be  one  flesh."  So 
close  a  union  is  ''  for  better,  for  worse,  for  richer, 
for  poorer,"  till  death  dissolves  it.  And  we  may 
here  note,  in  passing,  that  as  animated  existence 
advances  in  the  scale  of  being,  it  tends  instinctively 
to  this  life-long  union,  the  only  considerable  ex- 
ception among  the  higher  vertebrates — an  exception 
which  admits  of  explanation— being  afforded  by 
dogs.     Such  is  the  ideal  which  the  august  juris- 


218 


THE  ETHICS   OF  MARIUAGE. 


[CH. 


prudence  of  Rome  lias  enslirlned  for  us  In  the 
Digest :  "  Xui^tise  sunt  conjunctio  maris  et  femina3, 
ot  consortium  omnis  vitae ;  divini  et  humani  juris 
communicatio."  That,  as  the  great  jurisconsult 
discerned,  was  the  true  norm  of  marriage,  however 
void  in  practice  the  license  of  his  age  might  make  it. 
Nothing  sliort  of  tliis  norm,  of  this  ideal,  is 
adequate.  And  only  where  it  is  recognised,  is  the 
2)osition  of  woman  established  on  the  true  ethical 
basis.  Feeble,  loving,  dependent,  without  this 
bulwark  of  indissolubility,  this  consortiinn  oiimis 
ritce,  she  is  ill  assured  a^-ainst  the  vacillations  of 
man's  changing  fancy,  the  caprices  of  his  lawless 
appetite.  Anl  upon  her  position  depends  the 
family,  depends  society,  depends  civilisation  in  all 
that  ij^ives  it  moral  di^-nitv  and  worth.  Let  me, 
in  this  connection,  quote  some  words  of  Michelet, 
the  force  and  beautv  of  which  would  vanish  in 
translation  : 

''  La  femmo  est  clans  toute  riiist(»in'  relemcnt  tie  fixite.  Le  bou 
sens  (lit  nssez  poiirqiioi.  Xon  senl(Mnent  ])arce  qii'elle  est  mere, 
qifelle  est  le  f»>yer,  la  maison,  mais  parce  qu'ellc  met  dans  I'assoein- 
tion  nne  mise  dis[)r()portionnee,  enorme,  en  comparaison  tie  eelle  ile 
riiomme.  IClle  s'y  met  toute  et  sans  retour.  La  plus  simple 
comprend  l)ien  tpie  tout  eliangenient  est  contre  elle;  (pi'en  clian.Li^e- 
ant  elle  baissc  tivs  vite  ;  que  du  premier  homme  au  second,  elle 
perd  dejii  cent  pour  cent.  Et  t[u'estce  done  au  troisieme?  que 
sera-ce  au  dixieme  ?  lielas  !  ''  * 

Shall  I  be  told  this  is  the  language  of  poetry  ?    I 
might  well   reply,  with   Plato,   that  i^oetry  comes 

*    UAmour^  p.  32. 


IX.] 


CONSOPiTimr  omnis   VITyE. 


219 


nearest  to  vital  truth.  I  will,  however,  cite  another 
witness,  who  is  by  no  means  open  to  the  reproach  of 
sentiment.  The  followino;  are  the  remarks  of  Hume, 
the  least  emotional  of  philosophers: 

^*  We  need  not  be  afraid  of  drawing  the  marriage-knot  .  .  .  tlie 
closest  possible.  The  amity  betAveen  the  ])ersons,  whore  it  is  solid 
and  sincere,  -will  rather  gain  by  it  ;  and  where  it  is  watering  and 
uncertain,  that  is  the  best  expedient  for  fixing  it.  How  many 
frivolous  quarrels  and  disgusts  are  there,  wdiich  people  of  common 
prudence  endeavour  to  forget,  when  they  lie  under  the  necessity  of 
passing  their  lives  together  ;  but  wdiich  would  soon  be  inflamed 
into  the  most  deadly  hatred,  were  they  pursued  to  the  utmost, 
under  the  prospect  of  an  easy  separation  !  .  .  .  We  must  consider, 
that  nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  to  unite  two  persons  so 
closelv  in  all  their  interests  and  concerns,  as  man  and  wife,  without 
rendering  the  union  entire  and  total.  The  least  possibility  of  a 
separate  interest  must  be  the  source  of  endless  quarrels  and  sus- 
picions. The  wife,  not  secure  of  her  establishment,  will  still  be 
driving  some  separate  end  or  project ;  and  the  husband's  selfishness, 
being  accompanied  with  more  power,  may  be  still  more  dangerous."  * 

The  gist  of  the  whole  matter  has  been  presented 
in  a  dozen  words  by  one  whom  I  must  account,  not 

lb 

only  the  greatest  artist  in  romantic  fiction,  but  the 
profoundest  master  of  the  social  sciences,  that  the 
world  has  ever  known.  "  Nothing  more  conclu- 
sively proves  the  necessity  of  indissoluble  marriage 
than  the  instability  of  passion."  Of  the  many  wise 
utterances  of  Balzac  on  the  philosophy  of  life,  this, 
surely,  is  one  of  the  wisest. 


So    much    must    suffice    concerning    this    most 

*  Essaif  on  Pol t/ gam i/  and  Dirorce. 


220 


THE   ETTirCS    OF  MARRIAGE. 


[en. 


momentous  question  of  the  ethics  of  marriage. 
Shall  I  be  told  tliat  it  is  a  hard  sayino: — that  the 
ideal  is  too  perfect  ?  But  perfection  is  the  supreme 
law  of  ethics,  as  of  esthetics.  It  baffles?  Yes; 
but  it  inspires  also.  It  is  always  unattainable? 
True  ;  but  we  may  indefinitely  approximate  to  it. 
He  wdio  said,  '^  Be  ye  perfect/'  knew  what  was  in 
man.  Men  will  live  and  die  for  perfection.  For 
mediocrity  they  will  neither  live  nor  die.  The  idea 
of  perfection  is  the  source  of  all  greatness  in  private 

.life,  no  less  than  in  the  public  order;  in  ^' the 
daily  round,  the  common  task,"  no  less  than  in  art 

/  and  poetry  and  philosophy.  Let  the  perfect  ideal 
of  indissoluble  marriage  be  once  definitively  rejected, 
and  Western  civilisation  will  inevitably  fall  back  to 
that  wallowing  in  the  mire  from  which  Christianity 
rescued  it.  And  in  whatever  degree  you  tamper 
with  this  ideal,  and  derogate  from  its  strictness,  in 
that  degree  do  you  demoralise  woman.  Yes,  and 
man  too;  for  assuredly  he  speedily  sinks  to  her 
level — KaKYJ^  yvvaiKo^  avhpa  yiyvecrO at  KaKov.  The 
moral  tone  of  society,  I  say,  depends  upon  the 
chastity  of  woman.  And  the  chastity  of  woman 
depends  upon  the  absolute  character  of  marriage. 
But  here,  as  elsewhere,  the  philosophy  of  relativity 
seeks  to  banish  the  absolute.  It  degrado.s  the 
indissoluble  state  of  matrimony  to  a  mere  dissoluble 
contract,  to  a  mere  regulation  of  social  })oUcv,  to  a 
mere  material  fact,  governed  by  the  animal,  not  the 
rational,  nature. 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE   ETHICS   OF   ART.* 


One  of  the  problems  which  I  have  most  constantly 
had  before  me,  in  my  poor  historical  researches,  has 
been,  how  best  to  seize  the  moral  physiognomy  of 
an  epoch.  I  have  found  the  greatest  help  for  the 
solution  of  that  jjroblem,  not  in  the  formal  theo- 
logical treatises  nor  in  the  set  jjhilosophical  discus- 
sions of  any  age,  but  in  its  art — taking  the  word 
in  the  widest  sense.  There  is  no  accessorv  of 
human  life  which  is  void  of  ethical  significance ; 
and,  as  a  general  rule,  the  details  which  are  the 
minutest,  the  most  trifling,  are  also  the  most 
significant,  because  they  tell  their  tale  uncon- 
sciously,   spontaneously.      The    things    which   we 


*  I  put  aside,  in  this  chapter,  the  art  of  music,  as  being  inde- 
pendent of  the  practical  reason.  It  may  well  be  that  each  feeling 
of  humanity  expresses  itself  by  a  different  musical  tone,  as  the 
Greeks  believed.  (See  the  curious  passage  in  the  Third  Book  of 
Plato's  Republic.')  But  the  feelings,  qua  feelings,  are  neither 
moral  nor  immoral.  They  are  unmoral.  It  is  only  when  music  is 
united  to  words,  that  it  comes  within  the  domain  of  ethics. 


222 


THE  ETHICS  OF  ART. 


[CH. 


^•] 


"  RBALISM. 


n 


223 


take    pleasure   in    contemplating,    tlic    streets,    the 
houses,  the  very  furniture   and    raiment  in  which 
we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being,  are  so  many 
revelations  of  us.     The  hidden  man  of  the  heart 
leaves  his  impress  upon  every  particular  of  external 
existence.     Man   is   an  artistic    animal   in   a   very 
special  sense.     The  creatures  lower  than  ourselves 
in  the  scale  of  sentient  existence  manifest,  indeed, 
wonderful  skill  and  intelligence.     They  are  artists. 
But   must   we    not  say  that  they  are  unconscious 
artists?     They  know.     They   remember.     ^' They 
reason  not  contemptibly,"  Milton  thought.     But  do 
they  possess  that  intellectual  faculty  of  reflection, 
that  /xj/T^V^  (jwOeTLKTi  of  which  nuin  nudces  such  vast 
use  r    And  how  far  can  they  forecast  the  future  ?    A 
bird's    nest  is  a    miracle  of  workmanship.     But   is 
the  bird  of   a  year  old  prescient  of  the  eggs  for 
whicli    it   builds?      It    can    hardly   be    that    such 
knowledge  guides   its   activity.     A  captive  beaver 
constructs    the   dam   which   can   be   of  no  possible 
service  to  it.     Again,  I  am  far  from  denying  that 
the   feeling    of   beauty    penetrates   to    the    animal 
world,  and  is  a  vivifying  and   sustaining  principle 
there.     But  it  is  like  the  knowledge  of  the  animal 
world,  half  realised,  indeliberate,  "  without  a  con- 
science and  an  aim.''     Of  man  it  has  been  said,  and 
trulv,    ^^L'art    est  sa  nature  mcme."     And  of    no 
other  animal  can  this  be  said,  in  the  full  sense  of 
the  words. 

What,   then,    does    the    art    of    the    nineteenth 


century  tell  us  of  the  men  and  women  of  the 
century  ?  Survey  the  crowds  Avho  hurry  through 
the  streets  of  our  cities.  I  suppose  it  may  with 
truth  be  said,  that  in  proportion  as  they  belong  to 
the  century,  and  reflect  its  etlios^  they  become  less 
and  less  aBsthetic.  In  out-of-the-way  corners  of 
the  world,  beauty  still  lingers  in  connnon  life.  It 
appears  to  be  a  special  function  of  nineteenth- 
century  civilisation  to  banish  tlie  picturesque.  Can 
anything  be  more  hideous  than  the  garments  in 
which  we  swathe  ourselves,  except,  indeed,  it  be 
the  dwelling's  in  wdiich  we  live  ?  Consider  the 
architecture  of  the  age,  its  own  proper  style,  as 
exemplified  in  the  domestic  edifices  which  line  our 
streets.  Has  the  world  ever  witnessed  anything 
like  their  monotonous  meanness  ?  And  that,  be  it 
remembered,  is  the  real  architecture  of  the  centuiy. 
All  our  more  ambitious  structures  are  imitations 
— successful  in  proportion  as  they  are  exact  copies 
— of  buildings  of  former  ages.  Let  us  turn  to 
anotlier  of  the  fine  arts.  Walk  through  any 
collection  of  paintings  of  the  day,  say  the  Exhibi- 
tion of  the  Royal  Academy  in  London  or  the 
French  Salon.  What  do  the  works  whicli  hang  upon 
the  w^alls  speak  of  ?  Here  is  a  picture  which  reveals 
skill  of  hand.  There  is  one  which  manifests  power 
of  execution.  Fantastic,  sentimental,  realistic,  am- 
bitious, are  the  most  laudatory  adjectives  which  are 
wont  to  occur  to  us  as  we  pass  the  medley  of  naked 
goddesses   and  unclothed   women;    the   landscapes 


22-i 


THE  ETHICS  OF  ARl 


>rr 


[CH. 


X.] 


THE  IDEAL. 


225 


and  the  portraits,  the  genre  scenes  and  the  historical 
panoramas.  It  has  been  well  remarked  that  in  the 
pictures  of  tlie  old  masters  you  have  not  merely  a 
natural  scene,  but  the  soul  of  the  painter  Avho 
looked  upon  it.  That  attribute  of  soul  Is  precisely 
what  Is  wanting  in  modern  art.  I  speak  generally, 
and  would  of  course  allow  exceptions.  I  reverence 
the  sombre  greatness  and  pathetic  power  of  Turner, 
^'  the  artist  of  the  labour  and  sorrow  and  passing 
away  of  men."  I  am  ever  more  and  more  Im- 
pressed by  the  divlnatory  faculty  and  creative 
skill  of  Landseer,  who  probably  saw  more  deeply 
into  the  souls  of  the  '^  brute  creation  " — as  it  is  the 
fashion  to  call  our  poor  relations — than  any  painter 
that  ever  lived.  They  are  gone :  and  how  many 
successors  have  they  left  ?  All  that  our  artists, 
whether  painters  or  sculptors,  usually  aim  at — there 
are  Indeed  some  among  them  who  are  the  witnesses 
for  and,  I  trust,  the  precursors  of  better  things — is 
to  copy  exactly,  to  re2)roduce  phenomena,  to  de- 
scribe with  minute  exactitude  and  ever- Increasing 
freedom,  the  obvious,  the  superficial,  which  In  most 
cases  is  the  vulgar,  the  gross,  the  Ignoble.  They 
are.  In  Charles  Lamb's  phrase,  ''  deeply  cor- 
porealised,  and  enchained  hopelessly  in  the  grovel- 
ling fetters  of  externality."  And  this  they  call 
'^realism."  The  taste  of  tlie  age,  they  tell  us, 
demands  reality.  And  such  Is  their  conception  of 
the  real.  In  its  deep,  paralysed  subjection  to 
physical  objects,  art  seeks  to  make  itself  what  is 


called  '^  scientific."  It  aims  at  speaking  to  the 
senses  by  precise  delineation  of  the  2:)hyslcal  form, 
by  accurate  presentment  of  the  passions  of  which 
that  form  is  the  instrument.  And  here  It  achieves 
a  certain  measure  of  success.  By  technical  perfec- 
tion, by  audacities  of  the  brush,  it  manages  to  tell 
its  tale  plainly,  especially  If,  as  not  seldom  happens, 
the  talc  is  spiced  with  a  flavour  of  lubricity.  But  it 
speaks  merely  to  the  senses.  It  leaves  nothing  in 
the  mind  for  fancy  to  feed  uj)on.  One  looks  and 
passes  by,  and  the  image  vanishes,  even  as  a  dream 
when  one  awaketh.  Barren  in  nobleness  and  void 
of  dignity,  the  arts  of  design,  as  they  exist  among 
us,  proclaim  that  ''  glory  and  loveliness  have  passed 
away"  from  common  life.  ^'Nobleness  and  dig- 
nity !  "  I  suppose  no  one.  In  the  least  competent 
to  judge,  would  maintain,  that  the  miles  of  canvas 
which  have  hung  upon  the  walls  of  exhibitions  of 
modern  paintings,  from  the  opening  of  the  century 
to  the  present  time,  display  as  much  of  those 
divine  gifts  as  the  smallest  work  that  has  come 
down  to  us  from  Francia  or  Perugino. 

Now  why  Is  this  ?  It  Is,  I  apprehend,  because, 
as  Mr.  Lecky  has  told  us  in  his  History  of 
llatlonalism,  there  Is  In  the  present  day  ^^a  decline 
in  the  more  poetical  or  religious  aspects  of  man's 
nature."  But  poetry  and  religion  mean  inspira- 
tion and  life.  They  mean  that  ideal  which  is  the 
root  of  all  greatness  whatever,  in  thought  or  action. 
The  fine  arts,  as  they  exist  among  us,  bear  witness 

Q 


22n 


THE  ETHICS  OE  ART. 


[cir. 


only  too  clear  and  decisive,  to  tlie  deidealising  of 
life.  It  has  been  remarked  by  a  tliouglitful  critic  : 
'^  L'art  se  calqiiant  sur  nous  est  deveiiu  bourgeois. 
Dans  quelle  haute  region  eut-il  penetre,  alors  que 
tout  tend  vers  la  mediocrite  des  sentiments,  et  vers 
I'apathie  morale  d'une  societe  gorgee  de  material- 
isme  ?  Ce  qu'un  poete  a  dit  de  I'historien  d'une 
fabideuse  histoirCj  que  son  recit  n'a  pas  de  ciel,  on 
pent  le  dire  de  notre  epoque  en  general  :  la 
hauteur  et  la  profondeur  lui  manquent,  elle  n'a  pas 
de  i^erspective  ideale."  Precisely.  We  have  lost 
the  ideal  perspective.  We  liave  lost  that  very 
conception  of  the  Absolute  which  is  in  truth  the 
source  and  fount  of  glory  and  loveliness;  that 
Absolute  which  is  the  True,  the  Good,  the  Beautiful ; 
whereof  all  truth,  goodness,  and  beauty  of  wliich 
we  have  knowledge,  are  but  the  faint  emanations, 
the  dim  shadows.  ''  Wliat  we  call  truth,"  according 
to  Mr.  Spencer,  ''  is  but  the  accurate  correspond- 
ence of  subjective  to  objective  relations."  Tlie 
philosopliy  of  relativity,  interpreting  and  synthe- 
sising  the  thought  dimly  Avorking  in  tlie  general 
mind,  empties  truth  of  its  old  meaning.  It  de- 
rationalises  art,  as  it  derationalises  ethics.  It  ban- 
ishes the  essential  element  of  objectivity  alike  from 
our  knowledge  of  what  is  right  and  from  our  love 
of  what  is  beautiful.  It  conceives  of  ethics  as 
artificial  rules,  deduced  from  immemorial  experi- 
ences of  utility,  and  transmitted  by  heredity.  It 
conceives  of  art   as  mere  mechanism  for  the  pro- 


I 


X.] 


7VIE    ROOT   OE  ART, 


227 


duction  of  its  sttmnium  bonum,  ^'agreeable  feeling;" 
''  a  casual  coincidence  of  picturesque  attitudes  and 
sensations,  passing  with  the  passage  of  the  moment 
which  gives  them  birth,  and  owing  their  origin  to 
time  and  climate,  to  national  character  and  cir- 
cumstances." 


And  now  let  me  set  down  what  I  believe  to  be 
the   true   theory    of   art — the  theory    which,    con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  has  inspired  every  great 
artist  who   ever  lived.     T   do   not   know  who   has 
better   formulated    it   tlian    Kant    in    a    pregnant 
passage   of  liis   Critique  of  Judgnient :   ^'  Only  the 
2)roductions  of  liberty,  tliat  is,  of  a  volition  which 
founds  its   actions  upon  reason,  ought  properly  to 
be  called  art."     It  was  observed  by  Goethe  that  to 
read  Kant  is  like  going  into  a  lighted  room.     What 
an  illumination  is  thrown  upon  the  whole  subject  of 
a^stlietics   by   these    few  words    of   his  !     Here   is 
brought  out,  for  example,  tliat  profound  difference 
between   human    and   animal    art,    upon    which    I 
touched  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter.     In  that 
endowment  Avhich  is  distinctive  of  man  (although 
I  am  far  from   den  vino;   that  the  foreshadowinirs, 
tlie   i:)resentiments,    of    it   may   be   found    in    the 
lower  animals),   in  that   '^  capability  and  god-like 
reason  "  which  is  his  great  good,  is  the  root  of  art. 
As  I  observed,  in  a  previous  page,  ''the  artist,  like 
the  pliilosopher,   seeks   the  reason,  and  essence  of 

Q2 


228 


TIIK  KTllICS  OF  ART. 


[CH. 


things.  But,  wliile  to  the  philosopher  this  reason 
and  essence  are  revealed  in  a  principle,  in  a  general 
concej^tion,  to  the  artist  they  are  revealed  in  a 
concrete  form,  as  individual  beauty."  The  object 
of  the  human  intellect  is  truth.  And  truth  means 
being,  or  that  which  is.  The  notion  of  being,  as  a 
reality  existing  by  itself,  underlies  all  others  in  our 
intelligence.  To  this  idea  of  the  Absolute  all  our  in- 
tellectual operations  have  relation.  All  our  sciences, 
all  our  arts,  hold  of  it,  and  can  have  no  rational 
meaning  apart  from  it.  To  know  it  in  one  of  its 
attributes,  or  to  express  it  in  one  of  the  modes 
permitted  to  human  thought,  is  the  end  of  science 
as  of  art.  But  science  may  rest  within,  in  the 
state  of  pure  idea.  Art  is  the  external  manifesta- 
tion of  the  idea,  the  revelation  of  the  invisible 
reality  through  the  senses.  It  is  ^'eternity  looking 
through  time."  Does  any  one  among  my  readers 
find  this  a  hard  saying  ?  Docs  the  expression, 
*'  invisible  reality,"  offend  him  ?  Let  him  consider 
that  even  in  material  nature  the  most  real,  because 
the  most  energetic,  the  most  intense  forces,  are 
precisely  the  imponderable,  which,  for  the  most 
part,  are  imperceptible  to  sense.  Let  him  meditate 
upon  this  awhile,  and  then  perhaps  he  will  bear 
with  me  when  I  say  that  the  idea  which  we  have  in 
us  of  the  Infinite,  the  xVbsolute,  corresponds  to  the 
only  true  and  positive  reality,  whereof  phenomena 
are  merely  the  gross  shadows.  The  real  being  of 
a  thing  is  not  in  itself,  as  a  phenomenon,  but  in  the 


X.] 


''NOT  IMITATION   BUT    C RE  AT  ION  r 


229 


ideal  which  causes  it  to  be  what  it  is.  And  that 
ideal  is  the  true  reality  for  art  and  the  type  of  its 
rc])resentations.     Emerson  well  puts  it : 

'•  In  the  fine  arts,  not  imitation  but  creation  is  the  aim.  In 
landscapes  tlie  painter  should  give  the  suggestion  of  a  fairer 
creation  than  we  know.  The  details,  the  prose  of  nature,  he 
should  omit,  and  give  us  only  the  spirit  and  splendour.  .  .  .  He 
will  give  the  gloom  of  the  gloom,  and  the  sunshine  of  the  sunshine. 
In  a  portrait  he  will  inscribe  the  character,  and  not  the  features,  and 
must  esteem  the  man  who  sits  to  him  as  himself  only  an  imperfect 
picture  or  likeness  ot*  the  aspiring  original  Avithin."  '^ 

In  proportion  as  a  picture  truly  realises  this  end 
will  it  be  a  veritable  work  of  art.  For  what  is  the 
difference  between  a  good  portrait  and  a  photo- 
graph ?  What  but  this,  that  the  painter  seizes  the 
expression  of  the  sitter,  which  the  mechanic  cannot 
do  ?  The  construction  of  the  bodily  frame,  the 
tint  of  the  skin,  the  movements  of  the  muscles,  the 
play  of  the  features,  reveal  to  him  psychological 
secrets.  He  discerns  the  permanent  and  constituent 
elements  of  the  individual  character.  He  creates 
in  his  mind  an  invisible  model  of  his  subject,  and 
reproduces  it  with  his  brush.  A  picture  is  a  work 
of  art  precisely  in  proportion  to  the  quantity  of 
the  invisible,  of  the  ideal  which  it  contains.  It  is  a 
dictum  of  Goethe :  ''  This  is  true  ideality — the 
ideality  which  loves  to  make  use  of  the  material 
presented  to  it  by  nature  in  such  a  fashion  that  the 
ideal  truth  thus^  embodied,  the  matter  and  the 
spirit,  is  accepted  as  the  actual." 

*  Essays,  p.  287  (Macmillan's  Ed.). 


, 


230 


THE  KTIIIC6  OF  ART. 


[tii. 


X.] 


THE  LA  \V  OF  PERFECTION, 


231 


Thus  must  we  tliink  of  art,  not  as  a  superfluity 
for  the  amusement  of  idle  dilettantism,  but  as  a 
most  august,  a  most  precious,  and  most  important 
good  of  human  life.  Not  common  truth,  not  vul- 
gar reality,  is  the  o1)ject  of  art.  No.  Its  object  is 
ideal  loveliness  discerned  by  the  artist  in  ''  the  high 
reason  of  his  fancies."  His  elevated  and  elevatino- 
function  it  is,  in  the  words  of  Plato,  ''  to  seek  out, 
by  the  power  of  genius,  the  nature  of  tlie  fair  and 
graceful"  :  "  to  win  men,  imperceptibly,  into  resem- 
blance, love,  and  harmony  with  rational  beauty." 
Art  is  the  tongue  of  the  ideal.  It  is  an  econcmiy  or 
accommodation  whereby  transcendental  verities  are 
made  accessible  to  us.  It  is  symbolic,  figurative, 
taking  us  more  or  less  near  by  means  of  images 
to  the  Supreme  Reality,  which  eye  hath  not  seen 
nor  ear  heard.  And  it  is  precisely  because  man  is 
not,  as  the  jDliilosophy  of  relativity  teaches,  the 
''  mere  passive  result  of  outward  impressions,"  but 
self-determined  and  tlierefore  partaker  of  the  Divine 
Infinity,  that  art,  in  the  true  and  high  sense  of  the 
word,  ajDpeals  to  him  at  all. 

''  Wiir'  nicht  das  Aiige  soniienhaft, 
Wie  konnten  wir  das  Licht  erblicken  ? 
Lebt'  nicht  in  uns  der  Gottheit  eig'no  Kraft, 
Wie  konnte  uns  das  Gottliche  entziicken  ?  " 


If  this  is  the  true  conception  of  art,  it  is  easy  to 
understand  wdiat    ethical    laws    should    crovern  it. 


♦ 


Beauty  and  morality  spring  from  the  same  eternal 
fount ;  they  are  an  expression  of  the  same  im- 
nmtable  truth.  They  are  difierent  sides  or  aspects 
of  the  same  thing — of  reason,  order,  harmony,  right. 
To  this  language  itself  bears  witness.  We  use  the 
same  adjectives  to  describe  ethical  and  physical  ex- 
cellence. We  speak  of  a  fair  maiden  and  a  fair 
deed,  of  a  foul  nmrder  and  a  foul  way.  In  ethics, 
as  in  aesthetics,  order,  proportion,  comeliness  are 
instinctively  discerned  by  us  as  good.  Desire  for  the 
noble  or  beautiful,  which  is  the  fundamental  idea  of 
art,  is  also,  Aristotle  teaches,  the  basis  of  all  moral- 
ity, the  common  element  of  all  the  virtues.  Tou 
Kokov  eVe/ca*  kolvov  yap  tovto  tols  apeTOL^.  The  idea  of 
2)erfection  is  a  category  of  the  intellect.  It  is  a  law 
supreme  over  every  department  of  human  activity, 
prescribing  '^  the  direction  of  a  man's  will  to 
the  highest  possible  realisation  of  his  faculties." 
Do  not  misunderstand  me.  It  is  not  the  function 
of  the  artist  to  preach  morality,  to  inculcate  virtue. 
The  laws  of  art  are  proper  to  itself.  And  they  are 
the  laws  of  beauty.  But  the  beautiful  is  of  the 
intellect,  not  of  the  senses,  which  merely  supply 
the  artist  with  liis  raw  material.  The  eyes  are 
only  instruments  of  vision  through  which  the 
soul  looks.  Esthetic  enjoyment  is  the  reflection  of 
an  inner  light  or  splendour  from  our  reason  upon 
material  objects.  The  end  of  the  intellect,  let  me 
repeat,  is  truth.  And  in  words  which,  though  not 
Plato's,   to  whom  they  are  often  ascribed,  are  as 


•2'd2 


THE  ETHICS  OF  ART, 


[ 


CH. 


X.] 


THE  NUDE. 


233 


admirable   as   liackiieycd,    the    ^^  beautiful    is    the 
splendour  of  the  true." 

"  But  the  passions,"  it  may  be  said,  ''  surely  you 
do  not  exclude  them  from  the  domain  of  art  ?  "     I 
reply  in  words  which  I  am  gkid  to  borrow  from  the 
most   considerable  pliilosoplier  wlio    luis    arisen  in 
England  since  Coleridge  :   "  Xot  in  tliemselves,  but 
only  as  absorbed  in  will,  or  thought,  or  spiritualised 
nature— only  either  as  issuing  in  lieroic  act  or  as 
making  way  in  collision  with  eacli  other  and  destiny 
for  a  peace  that  is  not  in  tliem,  or  as  breathed  into 
the  life  of  nature  and  from  it  taking  beauty  and 
repose— are  the  passions  fit  material  for  art  at  all"  * 
Or,  to  put  more  shortly  what  is  thus  admirably  ex- 
pressed by  the  late  Professor  Green,  in  a  work  of 
art  everything  depends  upon  the   ethos.       Is   the 
impression    left    upon  a  healthy  mind,  sensuous  or 
spiritual  ?  That  is  the  test.    I  say,  ''  upon  a  healthy 
mind."     "  If  Miranda    is  immoral  to   Caliban,    is 
that  Miranda's  fault  ?  "     Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  some- 
where remarks  upon  the  effect  produced  by  putting 
a  bonnet  upon  an  antique  statue  of  Venus  undraped. 
The  result  is  unquestionably  obscene.     AVhy  ?   Be- 
cause the  obscenity  was  in  the  nude  statue  itself 
which  only  required  the  addition  of  a  bonnet  to  bo 
discerned    in    its   true    character?     No.     As   Mr. 
Spencer  very  properly  observes,  the  true  conclusion 
is,  not  that  in  the  statue  itself  there  was  anything 

-    Works  of  T.  H.  Green,  vol.  iii.  p.  15. 


of  obscene  suggestion,  but  that  this  effect  was  purely 
adventitious ;  the  bonnet,  connected  in  daily  expe- 
rience with  living  women,  calling  up  the  thought 
of  a  living  woman  with  the  head  dressed,  but  other- 
wise naked.  This  question  of  the  nude  may  serve 
admirably  to  illustrate  further  what  I  am  insisting 
uj^on.  Nudity  in  a  work  of  art  is  perfectly  inno- 
cent if  ideally  beautiful.  Schopenhauer  has  well 
noted  the  difference  between  the  treatment  of 
nudity  by  the  artists  of  ancient  Hellas,  and  by  a 
certain  school  of  artists  in  contemporary  Europe. 
These  modern  painters  and  sculptors,  he  points  out, 
produce  ^^  nude  figures  whose  posture,  drapery,  and 
general  treatment  tend  to  excite  the  passions  of  the 
beholder;  and  thus  pure  aesthetical  contemplation 
is  at  once  ainiihilated,  and  the  aim  of  art  is  de- 
feated. The  ancients  are  almost  always  free  from 
this  fault  in  their  representations  of  naked  loveli- 
ness, because  they  pursued  their  creative  work  in  a 
pure  objective  spirit,  filled  with  ideal  beauty,  not  in 
the  spirit  of  subjective  base  sensuality."  *  ^^  Ideal 
beauty."  Yes.  Pruriency  in  aesthetics  proceeds 
not  from  imagination  but  from  the  lack  of  it.  The 
ideal  is  the  principle  of  all  true  art,  as  of  everything 
higli  and  worthy  in  human  life. 

''  Of  all  true  art,"  and  not  merely  of  those  arts  of 
design  of  which  I  have  been  writing.  Art — all  art 
— is  essentially  one,  and  is  everywhere   subject  to 

'"  Die  Welt  ah  Wille  and  Vorstellungj  Book  iii.  §  40. 


i 


234: 


THE  ETHICS  OF  AliT, 


[ 


CH. 


tlie  same  great  laws,  the  same  immutable  principles. 
I  suppose  in  this  century  it  appeals  to  the  greatest 
number  of  men  and  women  under  the  form  of  litera- 
ture.     Poetry,    the    drama,    and    romantic  fiction 
—which  is  really  a  development  of  the  drama,  for 
what  is  tlie  modern  novel  but  an  unacted  play  ?— fill 
a  large  space  in  the  lives  of  multitudes  who  never 
look  upon  a  picture  or  a  statue.     I  say,  then,  that 
the  poet,  the  dramatist,  and  the  novelist  are  bound 
by  the  same   ethical  rules   as  the   painter.     They, 
too,  are  ministers  of  the  ideal.     Tlieir  function  is  to 
present,  amid  the  sordid  realities  of  daily  life,  the 
image  of  a  fairer  and  better  world ;  to  minister  to 
that  love  of  beauty  and  goodness  wliich  dwells  in 
all  men.     I  am   far  from   saying  tliat   the  novelist 
(let  me,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  speak  of  him  only) 
should    be    a   cloud-painter,    a   preacher   of    moral 
sermons  dealing  with  indlvldna  var/a,  with  untrue 
types ;  that  he   should  lose  sight  of  tilings  as  they 
are.     No  ;  the   novel  should  be  a  picture  of  actual 
life,  of  every-day  reality,  subject  to  that  great  rule 
so  admirably  formulated   by  George  Sand— Avould 
that  she  had  always  followed  it ! — "  Let  the  literary 
artist  choose  in  the   real  wliat  is  worth  painting.'' 
He  will  depict  life  truly,   I  say  ;  he  will  not  put 
darkness  for  light  nor  light  for  darkness,  but  will 
give  us  the   darkness  and  light  as  they  are.      The 
passions  are  his  legitimate  subjects ;  the  most  im- 
perious of  all,  the  passion  of  love,  is  his  chief  and 


\ 


X.] 


THE    ULTIMATE    TEST. 


235 


most  attractive  theme.     But,  if  I  may  quote  words 
of  my  own,  written  elsewhere : 


"  Love  is  not  to  liim  what  it  is  to  the  pliysiologist,  a  mere  aniuid 
impulse  which  man  has  in  common  with  motlis  and  mollusca.  His 
task  is  to  extract  from  human  life,  even  in  its  commonest  aspects, 
its  most  vulgar  realities,  what  it  contains  of  secret  beauty  ;  to  lilt 
it  to  the  level  of  art,  not  to  degrade  art  to  its  level.  And  so  he  is 
concerned  with  this  most  potent  and  universal  instinct,  as  trans- 
formed, in  greater  or  less  degree,  by  the  imaginative  faculty  ; 
whether  dealing  with  it  in  Its  illicit  manifestations,  he  exhibits  it 
as  the  blight  and  bane  of  life,  or  depicts  it  in  its  pure  and  worthy 
expression — '  the  bulwark  of  patience,  the  tutor  of  honour,  the  per- 
fectness  of  i)raise.'  His  ethos  comes  out  in  the  treatment  of  his 
subject  rather  thau  in  his  personages,  his  plot,  or  his  denouement. 
It  is  easy  to  conceive  of  a  work  of  fiction  in  which  all  the  characters 
should  be  evil,  but  which  should  be  severely  ethical  In  its  tone.  An 
liour  passed  in  Dante's  Inferno  does  but  intensify  our  longing  to 
enter  his  Paradiso."* 

And  so  Goethe,  in  vindication  of  his  own  novel, 
Mective  Affinities:  ^' The  true  poet  is  only  a 
masked  father  confessor,  whose  special  function  is 
to  exhibit  what  is  dangerous  in  sentiment  and  per- 
nicious in  action  by  a  vivid  ])icture  of  their  conse- 
quences." Whether  it  is  informed  by  any  high 
thought,  any  true  ideal,  is  the  ultimate  ethical  test 
in  judging  of  a  work  of  romantic  fiction,  as  in  judg- 
ing of  that  social  life  whereof  it  is  the  ''  counter- 
feit presentment."  Banish  the  ideal  from  the  life 
of  men,  and  by  the  operation  of  the  inexorable  law, 
''corruptio  optimi  pessima,"  men  will  sink  below 

'"  .1  Century  of  lievolution,  -p.  160. 


2-36 


THE  ETHICS  OF  ART. 


[CH. 


tlic  level  of  the  lower  animals,  and  will  love  tlie 
abnormal,  the  monstrous,  tlie  deformed,  for  its  own 
sake.  Such  is  the  natural  fruit  of  that  philosopliy 
wliich  rejects  the  only  rational  conceptions  of  Right 
and  Wrong,  and  degrades  to  the  region  of  molecular 
pli\'sics,  conceptions  properly  appertaining  to  tlie 
domain  of  the  organic  and  the  spiritual.  Examples 
are  not  far  to  seek.  And  they  are  the  sure  signs 
of  a  decadent  and  effete  civilisation. 


APPENDIX. 


A  portion  of  Chapters  I.  and  II.  of  this  work 
appeared  in  the  Fortnightly  Review  of  November, 
1886,  under  the  title  "  3IateriaHsrn  and  Morality!' 
In  the  next  number  of  the  Review,  Frofessor  Huxlefj, 
in  an  article  called  *'  Science  and  florals''  took 
exception  to  certain  observations  of  mine  regarding 
his  philosojjhical  tenets  and  teaching.  As  I  find 
myself  unable^  in  the  present  volume,  to  withdraw 
those  observations,  it  seems  right  to  reprint  here 
the  following  pjages,  published  originally  in  the 
PoRTXiGHTLY  REVIEW  of  February,  1887. 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS:  A  REJOINDER 
TO  PROFESSOR  HUXLEY. 

Professor  IIixlev,  In  liis  article  Science  and  Morals,  In  tlie 
December  nnniber  of  this  Review,  desiderates  '^  an  explana- 
tion "  *  of  the  "  theory  of  his  tenets  "  t  expressed  in  my 
j)aper,  Materialism  and  Morality^  pnbllshed  in  November. 
In  proceeding  to  comply  with  the  reqnisitlon  of,  I  will  not 
say  ni}'  oi)ponent,  but  my  critic,  I  shall  endeavour  to  be  as 
little  polemical  as  possible.  To  skill  in  controversy  I  make 
no  pretence.     And  if  I  possessed  it,  assuredly  I  should  not 

*  P.    792.      My  references  throughout  the  Api)eiidix,   unless  it  is 
otherwise  expressly  stated,  are  to  vol.  xlvi.  of  the  FortuujhUif  Review 
t  P.  788. 


•TOO 


THE  PUOVIXCE  OF  PHYSICS 


[appendix. 


APPENDIX.]     A  PE JOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.        239 


choose  to  exercise  It  ao^ainst  Professor  Huxlev.  I  firmly 
believe  that,  as  he  had  said,  we  have  both  at  heart  the  interests 
of  the  same  sacred  cause  :  that  we  may  both  unfeignedly 
declare  "  sen  vetus  est  verum,  dilio:o  sive  novum,"  however 
widely  our  convictions  as  to  what  is  true,  may  differ. 

Before  1  turn  to  the  point  in  IVofessor  Huxley's  strictures 
specially  requiring  attention  from  me,  I  must  say  a  word  or 
two  as  to  my  own  article  which  elicited  them.  The  Professor 
re|)resents  me  as  bavin oj  proceeded  "  after  the  manner  of  a 
medieval  disputant."  I  can  conceive  of  nothino^  less  medieval 
than  my  paper  on  MateriaUsin  and  3Ioralifi/j  either  in  form  or 
in  thouoht.  Professor  Huxley,  who  quotes  St.  Thomas  Aquinas 
— althouoli  with  some  misaj)[)rehension  of  his  meanini;'^ — must 

*  Tlie  first  of  tlie  two  passages  quoted  by  Professor  Huxley  from 
St.  Thomas  A(|uinas  is,  "  Ratio  autem  alicujus  fiendi  in  mente  actoris 
existens  est  quiedam  }>rjeexistentia  rei  tiend;e  in  eo. "  "  Tliis,"'  the 
Professor  says,  "  puts  the  whole  case  [for  Determinism]  in  a  nutshell. 
The  ground  for  doing  a  thing  in  the  mind  of  the  doer  is,  as  it  were, 
the  pre-existenee  of  the  thing  done."  But  that  is  not  what  A(juinas 
means.  He  means  that  you  cannot  do  a  thing  unless  you  have  an 
ideal  concei)tion  of  it  as  doable. 

The  second,  which  Professor  Huxley  also  considers  an  excellent 
"  statement  of  the  case  for  Determinism,"  runs  as  follows  : — 

"  Omnia  quji)  sunt  in  tempore,  sunt  Deo  ab  feterno  pnesentia,  non 
solum  ea  ex  ratione  ([ua  hal)et  rationes  rerum  apud  se  i)resentes,  ut 
quidam  dicunt,  sed  quia  ejus  intuitus  fertur  ab  jeteruf)  supra  omnia, 
prout  sunt  in  sua  pr;esentialitate.  Undi'  7naiiifest)im  est  qiiod  coiifm- 
gctd'td  utfaUlb'ditcr  a  Iko  c<)(f)iosmntH)',  in  quantum  subduntur  divino 
conspectui  secundum  suam  pnesentialitateu)  ;  et  tamen  sunt  futura 
contingentia,  suis  causis  i)roximis  con)j)arata. " 

This  is  a  connnonplace  of  the  schools.  *' Futura  contingentia" 
means  free  acts  ;  and  all  Catlic»lic  theologians  agree  that  they  are 
infallibly  foreknown.  But  they  are  foreknown  as  free,  and  cannot  be 
predetermined  by  Absolute  Power  in  any  way  that  would  destroy 
this  freedom.  Professor  Huxley  —  no  doubt  unwittingly  —  cuts 
Aquinas's  doctrine  in  halves,  and  .adopts  the  half  which  suits  him. 
Of  the  passage  cited  by  Professor  Huxley  fr«jm  the  JJc  Civifatc  it  nuist 
suttice  to  say  that  St.  Augustine  means  not  an  inevitable  fate  but  a 
"wise"  Providence. 


M 


be  well  aware  how  scholastic  disputations  were,  and  are  still, 
conducted.  I  suppose,  therefore,  that  I  may  reojard  this 
descrij)tion  of  my  dialectics  as  a  mere  harmless  pleasantry, 
introduced  to  season  a  o;rave  discussicm.  I  may  remark  in 
passing  that  great  gain  would  accrue  if  a  little  of  the  exact 
method  of  the  schools  could  be  introduced  into  the  aro-uments 
upon  momentous  subjects  which  from  time  to  time  find  place 
in  our  leading  Reviews.  "  The  rigorous  definition,  careful 
analysis,  precise  classification,"  the  absence  of  wdiich  I  de- 
plored in  my  last  contribution  to  these  pages,  would  soon 
make  an  end  of  much  loose  thinkino:  and  looser  writinor.  Of 
course  no  one  would  number  Professor  Huxley  amono-  loose 
thinkers  or  loose  writers.  Still,  in  matter  of  fact,  his  article 
might  supply  more  than  (me  instance  to  justify  this  view  of 
mine.  Thus  the  remark — perhaps  he  would  call  it  a  thesis — 
in  my  paper*  that  Materialism,  in  all  its  schools,  is  led  to 
deny  free  will,  is  treated  by  the  Professor  f  as  thouoh  it  were 
equivalent  to  the  assertion  that  every  school  which  denies  free 
will  is  Materialistic.  He  has  "  converted  "  my  pro])osition 
wrongly  by  universalising  the  predicate.  Again,  he  uses  the 
word  "  spontaneity "  in  a  sense  quite  peculiar  to  himself. 
"■  The  term,  if  it  has  any  meaning  at  all,"  he  asserts,  ''  means 
uncaused  action."  t  This  is  reallv  an  astoundinir  statement. 
I  Avill  only  remark  upon  it,  pace  tanti  vlri,  that  ^'spontaneity" 
un(|uestionably  has  a  meaning  in  pliiloso])hy;  and  that,  as 
unquestionably,  ''  uncaused  action  "is  not  what  it  means.  I 
know  that  the  precise  terminology  of  the  schools  is  impossible 
in  Avritino's  which  are  addressed  to  "  the  ojeneral  reader." 
We  must  adopt  popular  modes  of  speech  when  we  appeal  to 
the  unscientific  tribunal  of  public  opinion.  The  problem  for 
those  of  us  who  think  we  have  something  to  teach  the  Avorld, 
is  to  translate  our  pliilosoj)liy  into  the  world's  language.     It 


*  P.  585. 


t  P.  799-800. 


t  P.  798. 


240 


THE  PROriXCE  OF  PHYSICS.  [ArrEXDix. 


is  a  prol)lem  wliich  can  never  be  completely  solved.  Identity 
between  the  vulgar  aiul  the  scientific  vesture  of  ideas  is  im- 
possible. But  assuredly  the  translator  ad  pojnilum  is  not 
warranted  in  imi)()sino:  a  brand-new  sense  of  his  own  upon 
technical  terms  of  well-understood  significance. 

Such,  at  all  events,  is  the  rule  which  I  myself  have  fol- 
lowed, as  in  my  other  writings,  so  in  my  article,  MateriaUsm 
and  .Voralitj/,     The  argument  of  the  paper  was  briefly  this  : 
that  ''  the  invalidation  of  the   moral   code,  the   i)revalencc   of 
ethical  Agnosticism,  scepticism  as  to  all  first  principles,"  are 
unmistakable  signs  of  the  times,   which,   as   practical  men, 
we  may  well  consider  portentous ;  and  that  the  denial  of  free 
will  and  moral  responsibility  now  rife  in  the  world  is  largely 
owino;  to  the  spread  of  Materialism.*     I  pointed  out  how  the 
more'popular  literature  of  the  day,  which  is  the  truest  expres- 
sion  of  society,  is  redolent  of  Materialism  in  its   most  putrid 
f  )rms     And  iiere  Professor  Huxley  warndy  sympathises  with 
me,  as  we  might  have  felt  sure  he  would.     I  also   said   that, 
'-  if  we  survey  the  higher  thought  of  Europe  as  a  whole,  we 
must  find  it,  too,  largely  given  over  to  Materialism.''     And 
among  the  exponents  of  that  higher  thought  of  whose  teaching 
this  is  "  the  practical  outcome,''  I  was  led  to  mention  Professor 
Huxley  as  one  of  the  most  eminent  and  most  influential.   His 
doctrines,  I  ventured  to  say,  seem  to  me  "  in  their  ultimate 
resolution''  to  be  "  substantially  at  one  "  with  the  Positivism 
wliich  finds  so  i)Ositive  an  exponent  in  Mr.  Frederic  Harriscn. 
And  remembering  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  wise  admonition  that 
'•  only  by  varied   iteration  can   alien  conceptions  be   forced 
upcm  reluctant  minds,"  I   proceeded   to   amplify  my  meaning 
by    saying,  "  Professor    Huxley    puts    aside    as    unverifiable 
everything  which  the  senses  cannot  vc^rify,  everything  beyond 


*  It  may,  in  some  cases,  be  the  Determinism  of  an  Idealist  school 
but,  for  the  most  part,  I  am  convinced,  it  is  something  much  baser. 


APPENDIX.]     A  BEJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.       241 

the  bounds  of  physical  science,  everything  which  cannot  be 
brought  into  a  laboratory  and  dealt  with  chemically."  These 
last  words  of  mine  have  supplied  Professor  Huxley  with 
'^  three  theses,"  to  the  demolition  of  wdiich  he  has  devoted  four 
pages  of  what  I  may,  perhaps,  call  without  offence  "  very 
gracious  fooling."  He  then  proceeds  to  repudiate  the  doctrine 
of  Materialism,  as  he  understands  it,  just  as  heartily  as  he 
repudiates  the  doctrine  of  Spiritualism  as  I  have  presented 
it,*  and  to  explain  in  some  detail  why  he  does  this.  Lastly, 
he  begs  me,  ^Svhile  denouncing  physical  science  as  the  evil 
genius  of  modern  days — mother  of  Materialism,  Fatalism, 
and  all  sorts  of  other  condemnable  isms — to  lay  the  blame  on 
the  right  shoulders,  or  at  least  to  put  in  the  dock,  along  with 
Science,  those  sinful  sisters  of  hers,  Philosophy  and  Theology, 
Avho  being  so  much  older,  should  have  known  much  better 
than  the  poor  Cinderella  of  the  schools  and  universities  over 
which  they  have  so  long  dominated  ; "  poor  Cinderella,  who 
"  lights  the  fire,  sweeps  the  house,  and  provides  the  dinner;" 
and  "  in  her  garret  has  fjiiry  visions  out  of  the  ken  of  the 
pair  of  shrews  who  are  quarrelling  downstairs." f  And,  to 
conclude,  he  proclaims  that  ^' the  safety  of  morality  lies 
neither  in  the  adoption  of  this  or  that  philosophical  speculation, 
or  this  or  that  theological  creed,  but  in  a  real  and  livino- 
belief  in  that  fixed  order  of  nature  wliich  sends  social  dis- 
organisation upon  the  track  of  immorality,  as  surely  as  it 
sends  physical  disease  after  physical  trespasses.'^  { 

Now  the  main  point  at  issue  betw^een  Professor  Huxley 
and  myself  is  whether  I  am  right  in  reckoning  him  among 
teachers  of  Materialism.  He  protests  that  if  he  "may  trust 
liis  own  knowdedge  of  his  owai  thoughts,"  this  is  "an  error 
of  the  first  magnitude."  §  But  surely  the  question  is  not 
about    Professor    Huxley's    own    knowdedge    of    his    ow^n 


*  P.  703. 


t  P.  801-2. 


t  P.  802. 


§  P.  788. 


R 


242 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS.        [appendix. 


thoughts.  It  is  as  to  the  obvious  meaning  and  practical 
consequences  of  tlie  words  to  wliich  he  has  committed 
himself  in  print,  and  whicli  he  is  not  in  the  least  disposed 
to  retract.  If,  as  I  believed  when  I  wrote  my  paper 
Materialism  and  Morality,  and  as  I  still  believe  after  the 
most  careful  study  of  Professor  Huxley's  criticism  upon  it, 
there  are  among  those  words  many  statements  which  commit 
him  to  the  doctrine,  that  is  enouoli  for  my  vindication, 
enough  for  the  explanation  which  Professor  Huxley  seeks 
from  me.  Should  it  appear  that  the  Professor,  in  other  and 
perhaps  contiguous  statements,  has  committed  himself  to 
Idealism,  the  question  might  then  arise  whether  he  held  both 
doctrines  simultaneously  or  in  succession.  But  I  submit  it 
would  be  no  argument  against  his  having,  by  force  of  terms, 
surrendered  to  Materialism,  that  he  had  never,  in  his  own 
mind,  intended  to  do  so,  or  that  he  had  before  or  afterwards 
preached  Idealism.  Pather  it  would  illustrate  what  has  been 
well  pointed  out  by  a  recent  very  clear-headed  writer,  who, 
like  myself,  greatly  admires  Professor  Huxley's  high  gifts: 
"  It  is  just  because  science  has  private  opinions  of  its  own, 
just  because  of  its  convictions  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge, 
just  because  of  the  irresistible  arguments  of  Idealism,  that 
it  gets  into  a  muddle.  It  has  officially  to  profess  Itealism, 
and  covertly  to  recognise  Idealism.  It  then  sets  about 
solving  the  problem  of  their  reconciliation,  by  stating  it  in 
terms  whicli  are  applicable  to  the  first  only."  "^  Professor 
Huxley,  in  his  La?/  Sermoji  on  the  Physical  Basis  of  Life, 
proposed  to  lead  his  hearers  "  through  the  territory  of  vital 
phenomena  to  the  materialistic  slough,"  and  then  "  to  point 
out  the  path  of  extrication."  f  My  contention  is  that  a  large 
nundjcr  of  his  students — I  believe   the   vast  majority — and 

*  Coke,  Creeds  of  the  Daij,  vol.  ii.  p.  200. 
t  Lay  Sermons,  p.  130. 


APPENDIX.]      A  REJOINDElt  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.       243 

their  name  is  legion,  are  led  by  him  into  the  materialistic 
slough  never  to  emerge  from  it.  Some  delicacy  of  discrimi- 
nation, not  commonly  found  in  the  average  reader  of  to-day, 
is  required  in  order  to  realise  that  Professor  Huxley's  material- 
istic  language  is  really  meant  to  be  not  more  than  metaphori- 
cal ;  that  it  implies  only  working  hypotheses,  which  need 
not  in  the  least  be  truths  of  fact. 

I  am  anxious  to  make  good  my  ground  as  I  go,  and  there- 
fore I  shall,  before  proceeding  further,  here  set  down  two 
observations.     First  let  me  say,  in  correction  of  a  misappre- 
hension  of  Professor  Huxley's,  which  is  to  me  quite  un- 
accountable, that  with  physical  science,  working  in  its  own 
province  and  by  its  own  methods,  I  have  no  quarrel.     I  have 
not  denounced  it,  I  have  never  dreamed  of  denouncino-  it,  as 
"  the  evil  genius  of  modern  days,  mother  of  Materialism  and 
Fatalism,  and  all  sorts  of  other  condemnable  imis."     There 
is  not  a  syllable  to  that  effect  in  my  paper.     And   I  cannot 
conceive  how  Professor  Huxley,  who,  I  am  very  sure,  has  no 
wish   to   misrepresent   me,  was   led    to   attribute   to  me  an 
absurdity,  which— to  put  the  case  in  a  way  likely,  I  think,  to 
api)eal  strongly  to  him— would  disgrace  even   "  the  heated 
pulpiteer."     But,  as  I  have  been  at  the  pains  to  point  out,  in 
my   inculpated   article,   physical   science  is   one  thing;  the 
extra-judicial  utterances  of  its  professors,  however  illustrious, 
are  quite  another.     And  it  is  matter  of  everyday  observation 
that,  upon  the  score  of  authority  in  this  province  of  human 
thought,    eminent   persons   are   often   credited    with   a   like 
authority  in  other  provinces,  where  physical  science,  as  such, 
has  nothing  whatever  to  say.     One  of  these  provinces,  I  take 
leave  to  hold,  is  ethics.     And  when  Professor  Huxley  asserts 
that  ''  the  safety  of  morality  is  in  the  keeping  of  science," 
I  must  say  that  he  is   putting  forth  such  an  extra-judicial 
utterance,  upon  which  I  shall  have  more  to  remark  by-and- 
by.     For  the  truth  is  that  physical  science,  as  such,  can  know 

H  2 


244 


THE  PUOVINCE  OF  PHYSICS.         [appendix. 


APPENDIX.]    A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.        245 


notliing,  ^oocl  or  bad,  about  morality — ''  il  n'y  a  rien  de  sale 
nl  d'impiidiqiiG  pour  la  science,"  writes  Diderot  in  the  Reve 
(TAlemhert^  correctly  enough — and  therefore  is  not  competent 
to  track  or  to  state  the  connection  between  morality  and  social 
disoj'ganisation.  Morality  and  immorality  are  of  the  will 
and  the  intellect.  But  with  the  will  and  the  intellect,  as 
Professor  Huxley  himself  witnesses  when  he  preaches  Ideal- 
ism, physical  science  has  no  concern.  Ah,  yes.  Cinderella 
must  confine  herself  to  ^'lighting  the  fire,  sweej)ing  the  house, 
and  j)roviding  the  dinner,"  and  not  exercise  herself  in  great 
matters,  which  are  too  high  for  her.  I  shall  have  to  return 
to  this  point. 

My   second   ]n'eliminary  observation    is   in   correction   of 
another   liuire  error   concernino;   me   into    which    Professor 
Huxley  has  fallen,    "  Mr.  Lilly  says,"  he  writes,  "-  that  when 
Christian  dogmas  vanish,  virtue  will  disappear  too,  and  the 
ancestral  ape  and  tiger  will  have  full  play."  *     Mr.  Lilly  has 
said  nothing  of  the  sort,  but,  on  the  contrary,  has  expressly 
disclaimed  that  view.     "  Litera  scripta  inanet."     -And  here 
are   my    words,    which    seem    to    me    quiet    plain    and  un- 
ambiguous :     "  Not,  indeed,  that  I  am    now    pleading    for 
Christianity.     Still  less  am  I  pleading  for  any  special  form  of 
it.     There  is  little  in   Christian   morality  that  is  exclusively 
Christian.     And  I  am  not  prepared  to  assert  that  many  of 
the  most  precious  of  the  ethical  elements  of  our  civilisation 
might  not  survive  a  general  decay  of  specifically  Christian 
dogmas.     My  present  contention  is  more  general.     It  is  this: 
that  morality  can  have  root  only  in  the  spiritual  nature  of 
man.     If,  from  that  happy  soil,  watered  by  tliC  river  of  life, 
and  refreshed  by  the  dews  of  heaven,  you  transplant  it  to  the 
rocks  and  sands  of  Materialism,  wither  and  die  it  must."t 
Surely  these  words  leave   not  a  shadow  of  justification   for 


I 


*  P.  801. 


t  P.  501. 


Professor  Huxley's  assertion.  Of  course  I  feel  persuaded — 
to  borrow  a  phrase  of  his — that  "  there  must  be  an  explana- 
tion which  will  leave  his  reputation  for  common  sense  and 
fair  dealing  untouched."  *  What  it  may  be  I  do  not  pre- 
sume to  suggest.  But  he  must  let  me  say,  in  his  own 
emphatic  words,  that  '^  I  have  never  given  the  slightest 
ground  for  the  attribution  to  me  of  the  ridiculous  conten- 
tion "  f  that  virtue  is  inseparably  connected  with  Christian 
doo-mas. 

And  now  as  to  Professor  Huxley's  ^^  Materialism."  In 
the  first  place  I  observe  that  I  cannot  quite  accept  his  defini- 
tion of  the  term.  It  suits  his  argument,  unquestionably ; 
but  it  is  too  narrow.  He  says  Materialism  amounts  to  this  : 
"  That  there  is  nothing  in  this  universe  but  matter  and  force  ; 
and  that  all  the  phenomena  of  nature  are  explicable  by  de- 
duction from  the  properties  assignable  to  these  two  factors, '''' % 
I  reject  the  second  half  of  this  definition — the  words  which 
I  have  put  in  italics  —  as  unnecessary  and  as  incorrect, 
A  Materialist  may  say,  "  I  cannot  explain  the  process 
by  which  certain  products  of  matter  and  force  come 
about,  but  I  maintain  that  they  are  products  of  these  two 
flictors  only,  and  not  of  a  third  different  from  them."  Many 
— l)erhaps  most — Materialists  would  grant  that  they  cannot 
understand  how  molecular  action  produces  thought ;  but  all 
the  same,  they  contend  that  there  is  no  cause  of  thought 
except  matter.  Professor  Huxley  knows  that  just  as  well  as 
I  do,  and  probably  much  better.  Of  course  the  virtue  of  the 
saving  clause  in  his  definition  is  plain  enough.  He  agrees 
with  the  Materialists  as  to  the  fact  of  origin.  "  Material 
changes  are  the  causes  of  psychical  phenomena."  §  But  if 
you  say,  ''  Dear  me ;  that  sounds  uncommonly  like  Material- 


*  P.  792. 
%  P.  703. 


t  Ihid. 
i  P.  797. 


246 


THE  PROVIXCE  OF  PHYSICS.      [appendix. 


ism,'' he  turns  round  indignantly  and  exclaims,  '' Nego — I 
say  No :  the  proprieties  do  not  permit  me  to  make  the  negation 
quite  so  emphatic  as  I  could  desire ;  I  never  said  1  could 
explain  how  they  are  the  causes :  I  cannot  conceive  how  the 
phenomena  of  consciousness  are  to  be  brought  Avithin  the 
bounds  of  physical  science/^  ^  and  so  forth.  He  grants"  that 
states  of  consciousness  are  brought  into  existence  by  molecular 
changes.  Yet,  for  all  that,  you  must  not  say  that  he  teaches 
Materialism,  because  he  cannot  explain  the  process.  Why, 
who  can  explain  the  ])rocess  by  which  light  becomes  heat,  or 
heat  becomes  electricity?  And  who  is  thereby  hindered 
from  asserting  that  heat,  lig^it,  and  electricity  are  in  their 
nature  physical,  not  psychical?  It  is  a  question  of  the 
nature  of  things,  not  of  explaining  the  process  by  which  one 
produces  another.  If,  in  fact,  molecular  changes  do  produce 
states  of  consciousness,  be  the  process  what  it  may — so  long 
as  it  does  not  bring  in  a  new  non-physical  cause — we  are 
necessarily  landed  in  Materialism.  Now  with  all  possible 
deference  lor  Professor  Huxley's  knowledge  of  his  states  of 
consciousness,  I  must  stick  to  my  text  that  this  very  Material- 
ism is  contained  in,  and  follows  by  strictest  deduction  from, 
liis  printed  statements.  Will  he  repeat  that  he  never  meant 
it  ?  He  must  permit  me  in  reply  to  repeat  that  I  am  con- 
cerned not  with  what  he  meant,  but  with  what  his  words 
mean,  with  the  message,  not  with  the  messenger.  Let  us 
turn  to  his  words. 

Professor  Huxley  declares,  "  If  there  is  anything  in  the 
world  which  I  do  firmly  believe,  it  is  the  universal  validity  of 
the  law  of  causation."  t  Now  here  I  find  reason  for  rcirret 
that  we  are  not  proceeding  after  the  manner  of  medieval 
disputants.  If  we  were,  I  should  at  once  ask  him  to  define 
''  the  law  of  causation  ; ''  scholastic  formalism  always  rccom- 


*  P.  781)-1)0. 


t  P.  71)0. 


APPENDIX.]     A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY,        247 

mends  such  definitions  to  be  given  when  possible.  In  the 
absence  of  any  definition  of  the  law  of  causation  from  Pro- 
fessor Huxley,  it  will  not,  I  feel  confident,  be  deemed  by 
him  excessive  if  I  describe  that  which  calls  something  into 
existence  as  the  cause  of  that  which  it  calls  into  existence. 
Well,  then,  in  Professor  Huxley's  article  I  find  these  words : 
^Hlie  phenomena  of  consciousness  as  such,  and  apart  from 
the  physical  process  hy  which  the//  are  called  into  existence.''''^ 
Here  we  have  '^physical  process"  as  the  cause^  and  ''the 
phenomena  of  consciousness "  as  the  effect.  But  physical 
process  is  merely  another  name  for  ''the  molecular  changes 
propagated  from  the  eye,"  or  any  other  organ  "  to  a  certain 
part  of  the  substance  of  the  brain,"  and  these  changes  are 
due  to  "  vibrations  of  luminiferous  ether,"  f  or  whatever  the 
medium  may  be.  The  '^process  of  physical  analysis  "  takes 
us  backward  to  matter  and  force  on  the  one  hand,  forward 
to  "  the  phenomena  of  consciousness,"  "  called  into  exist- 
ence "  by  physical  process,  on  the  other.  And,  as  we  have 
seen.  Professor  Huxley,  if  he  believes  anything,  believes  in 
the  unbroken  sequence  by  which  the  "process"  stands  to 
"  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  "  in  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect.  It  is  unwarranted,  then,  in  his  readers  to  con- 
clude that  in  the  last  analysis  "  the  phenomena  of  conscious- 
ness "  must  "  be  explicable  by  deduction  from  the  properties 
assifrnable  to  matter  and  force?"  And  what  is  this  but 
Materialism  as  defined  by  Professor  Huxley  himself? 

Again,  Professor  Huxley  holds  "  that  it  would  be  quite 
correct  to  say  that  material  changes  are  the  causes  of 
psychical  phenomena."  t  "  Psychical  phenomena  !  "  Surely 
it  is  what  Polonius  would  call  "  an  ill  phrase."  Can  it  be 
other  than  misleading  to  apply  such  a  term  as  "phenomena" 
to  the  things  of  the  mind,  to  its  activities,  or  the  exercise  of 

*  P.  700.     The  italics  are  mine.  f  P.  790  t  P.  797. 


248 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS,      [appendix. 


APPENDIX.]    A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.         249 


tliem  ?     For  tliej  do  not  appear  in  any  projicr  sense  of  the 
word;  they  exist  without  appearing,  and  so  should,  in  strict 
logic,    come   under    Professor   Huxley's   canon :    ''  De   non 
apparentibus  ut  de  non  existentibus,  eadeni  est  ratio/'  *     I 
do  not  press  this  j^oint,  akliougli  it  is  important,     I  merely 
throw  it  out,  in  passing,  for  Professor  Huxley's  consideration. 
The  matter  just  now  in  hand  is  the  Professor's  proposition 
that  '^material  changes  are  the  causes  of  psychical  pheno-- 
mena."     Is  it,  as  he  asserts,  ''quite  correct"  to  say  this? 
I  am  afraid  I  must  answer  after  the  manner  of  a  medieval 
disputant  and  say  Distwrfuo.     What  does  Professor  Huxley 
here   mean    by    ''cause"?      Does   he   mean   that    material 
changes  bring  "psychical  phenomena"  into  existence  without 
the  intervention  of  any  other  cause  which  is  not  a  material 
change  ?     If  he  does,  assuredly  there  is  an  entirely  adequate 
justification  for  dubbing  him  a  Materialist ;  the  very  head  and 
front   of   Materialism    is   to    maintain    that  what  is  merely 
matter  and  force  can  produce  that  which  is  neither  matter 
nor   force.      Or   does  he  allow  that  a  psychical  immaterial 
cause  must  intervene?      In  that  case   his   material    ehano-e 
is  not  a  cause,  but,  at  the  most,  an   occasion,   which  two, 
I  would  observe,  in  my  character  of  medieval  disputant,  are 
not  precisely  the  same  thing.     And  what  an  amazino-  illus- 
tration  Professer  Huxley  has  chosen  to  elucidate  his  meaning  ! 
"  The  man  who  pulls  the  trigger  of  a  loaded  pistol  placed 
closed  to  another's  head  certainly  is  the  cause  of  that  othei-^s 
death,  though  in  strictness  he  '  causes '  nothing  but  the  move- 
ment of  the  finger  up(m  the  trigger.     And  in  like  manner  the 
molecular  change  which  is  brought  about  in  a  certain  portion  of 

*  See  his  most  sugsjestive  article  on  The  Hypothesis  that  Animals 
are  Autmnata,  published  in  this  He  view  in  November,  1874.  *'  In 
the  matter  of  consciousness,  if  in  anything,"  he  there  remarks,  "we 
may  hold  by  the  rule,  '  De  non  apparentibus  ut  de  non  existentibus 
cadcm  est  ratio."     P.  5G5. 


the  cerebral  substance  by  the  stimulation  of  a  remote  part  of  the 
l)ody  would  be  properly  said  to  be  the  cause  of  the  consequent 
feeling,  whatever  unknown  term  were  interposed  between  the 
physical  agent  and  the  actual  psychical  product."  *  That  is 
to  say,  a  series  of  physical  changes,  beginning  with  the  move- 
ment of  the  finger  on  the  trigger,  shows  us  exactly  how 
molecular  changes  may  produce,  not  physical  effects  co- 
ordinate with  their  activity,  but  "  psychical  phenomena," 
which  are  absolutely  incommensurable  with  it !  I  hope 
Professor  Huxley  will  not  accuse  me  of  "a  damnable 
iteration"  if  I  again  ask.  Has  a  psychical  cause  interposed? 
Then,  the  illustration  is  nothing  to  the  purpose ;  it  does  not 
illustrate  ;  and  to  employ  the  word  "  cause  "  for  the  mere 
material  antecedents  is  to  throw  dust  in  our  eyes.  Has  none 
interposed?  Then  how  can  Professor  Huxley  complain  of 
those  wlio  dub  him  a  Materialist?  If  pulling  a  trigo-er 
produces  death,  exactly  as  a  physical  change  in  the  brain 
produces  thought,  and  vice  versa,  it  passes  my  wit  to  see  how 
Professor  Huxley,  in  maintaining  this,  is  to  be  differentiated 
from  Dr.  Bilchner,  who  holds  just  the  same  thing. 

Once  more,  Professor  Huxley  maintains  that  "  conscious- 
ness,  in  certain  forms  at  any  rate,  is  a  cerebral  function."  f 
The  statement  is  more  guarded  than  one  which  was  jout 
forward  by  him  some  years  ago  in  quelling  Mr.  Darwin's 
critics.  He  then  contended  that  as  electric  force  and  lio-ht 
waves  are  expressions  of  molecular  changes,  "  so  conscious- 
ness is,  in  the  same  sense,  an  expression  of  the  molecular 
changes  which  take  place  in  that  nervous  matter  which  is  the 
organ  of  consciousness."  {  So  in  writing  in  this  Eeview  in 
November,  1874:.  he  laid  it  down  that  "the  consciousness  of 
brutes  would  appear  to  be  related  to  the  mechanism  of  their 


*  P.  797. 

J  Contemporary  Review^  vol.  xviii.  p.  465. 


t  P.  796. 


I 


:?50 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS,      [appendix 


bodies,  simply  as  a  collateral  product  of  its  workinc^.''  And 
it  is  quite  clear  from  the  whole  of  the  paper  in  which  these 
words  occur  that  he  does  not  allow  of  any  difference  in  this 
matter  between  men  and  the  brutes,  as  to  which  I  quite  agree 
with  him.  I  do  not  know  the  precise  object  or  value  of  the 
limitino;  words  he  now  uses:  '^  in  certain  forms,  at  any  rate." 
I  take  it  that  we  may  fairly  credit  him  with  the  proposition, 
which,  indeed,  he  appears  to  grant,  that  "  consciousness  is 
a  function  of  the  brain."  *  And  what  does  he  mean  by 
function?  He  replies,  ''Wc  call  function  that  effect,  or 
series  of  effects,  which  result  ii'om  the  activity  of  an  organ.''  f 
A^ery  well.  We  will  take  that  definition.  And  now  let  us 
go  a  step  farther. 

To  Professor  Huxley  the  whole  of  man,  except  his  body, 
consists  of  ^'  states  of  consciousness."  J     So  much  is  clear. 
To  talk  of  a  personality  which  underlies  those  states,  or  exists 
in  them,  appears  to  him  a  return  to  an  ^^  effete  mythology."  § 
Consciousness  is  the  man,  so  far  forth  as  he  is  man  and  not 
mere  dead  matter.     Therefore  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  on  this  theory  the  brain  makes  the  man — that  man  is  the 
result  of  brain,   or  a  cerebral  function.     And  what  is  the 
brain  except  a  little  grey  matter  in  a  certain  degree  of  com- 
plexity ?     Shall  we  be  told  that  consciousness  is  simply  the 
product  of  the  activity  of  a  material  organ,  and  at  the  same 
time  be  forbidden,   under  pain    of  the  strongest   anatliema 
which  ^4he  proprieties  permit,"  to  call  this  doctrine  Material- 
ism ?     What  is  Materialism  if  this  is  not?     Nay,  nay,  says 
Professor    Huxley,   not   so  fast;    in  that  sense,   we  are  all 
Materialists.     "  We    are   all    agreed  that  consciousness  is  a 
function  of  matter,  and  that  particular  tenet  must  be  given 
up  as  a  mark  of  Materialism."  ||      x\nd  he  imagines  me  to 


*  P.  71)0. 

X  Lay  Seniwns,  p.  327. 

II  R  707. 


t  P.  797. 
§  P  790. 


APPENDIX.]    A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.         251 

meet  his  parallel,  drawn  from  the  production  of  muscular 
motion,  by  conceding  that  "  no  physiologist,  however  sj)iritual 
his  leanings,  dreams  of  supposing  that  simple  sensations 
require  a  '  spirit '  for  their  production."  *  Professor  Huxley 
must  pardon  me.  That  would  not  at  all  be  my  way  of  re- 
joining. What  physiologists  hold  I  am  not  just  now^  con- 
cerned to  ascertain.  But  psychologists  also  deal  with  simple 
sensations,  and  I  am  quite  sure  tliat  I  am  not  the  solo 
survivor  of  the  school  which  perceives  a  difference  between 
dead  and  living  muscle,  wdiicli  attributes  the  state  of  con- 
sciousness called  pain  to  living  and  not  to  dead  muscle,  and 
which,  therefore,  affirms  in  living  muscle  the  existence  of 
an  immaterial  vital  principle— in  short,  of  ^'spirit,"  the 
absence  of  which  it  is  that  makes  dead  muscle,  and  renders 
pain  impossible  in  such.  Sensation,  however  simple,  appears 
to  me  to  be  not  a  physical  fact,  not  a  nerve  fact,  but  a 
mental  fact.  Pace  Professor  Huxley,  w^e  have  not  yet  quite 
"  done  with  that  wholly  superfluous  fiction."  Still  less  have 
psychologists  conceded  that  a  fiction  it  is.  I  certainly 
cannot  allow  that  animal  life,  constituting  certain  states  of 
consciousness,  is  due  to  a  material  organism  in  which 
nothing  immaterial  resides.  Is  this  ^^  immaterial "  to  be 
called  ^^  spirit"?     Why  not  ? 

As  little,  or  rather  much  less,  can  I  allow  that  he  does  not 
teach  Materialism  who  makes  thought  simply  a  function  of 
the  material  brain,  instead  of  asserting  that  the  brain  is  at 
most  t  the  instrument  of  thought,  and  su])poses  in  a  man  a 
thinking  principle,  which  it  cannot  and  does  not  constitute. 
]\faterialism  this  certainly  seems  to  me  to  be,  and  of  the 
crassest  kind.  I  can  no  more  believe  it,  than  I  can  believe 
that  the  w^oodman  is  a  function  of  his  axe,  and  that  the  axe  is 

*  P.  797. 

t  See  the  note  at  p.  01  of  this  work. 


252 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS.     [ArrEXDix. 


not  the  woodman's  instrument.  If  thinking  man  is  tlic  resnlt 
of  the  activity  of  a  h'ttle  grey  matter,  then  assuredly  Dr. 
Biichner,*  whether  or  no  he  represents  pliysical  science,  will 
represent  the  only  valid  metaphysics,  for  the  brain,  physically 
considered,  is  matter  and  nothing  but  matter.  Allow  it  to  be 
the  material  antecedent,  and  the  only  cause  which  ''  calls  into 
existence  "  ''  states  of  consciousness,"  and  how  can  the  con- 
clusion be  avoided  that  thought  is  the  product  of  matter  and 
force  ?  If  material  changes  are  the  causes,  true  and  sufHcIent, 
of  ^^  psychical  j)lienomena,"  are  not  tliesjc  '^phenomena  "  pro- 
ducts of  matter?  Where  will  Professor  Huxley  introduce 
Idealism  in  the  process  ?  Nowhere  in  the  process,  but  only 
in  the  result.  Is  that  not  precisely  what  the  ^laterlallst  does? 
He  starts  from  matter  and  gets  to  mind,  and  there  Is  no  break 
in  the  chain.  Consciousness  is  to  be,  at  any  rate,  ''  a  col- 
lateral product  "  of  nerve  changes.  If  so,  does  it  not  originate 
in  nerve  matter? 

I  come  now  to  the  famous  passage  quoted  in  my  article. 
Materialism  and  Morality.  "  The  progress  of  science  means 
the  extension  of  the  province  of  what  we  call  matter  and 
causation,  and  the  concomitant  gradual  banishment  from  all 
regions  of  huyian  thought  of  what  we  call  spirit  and  sponta- 
neity.''f  Professor  Huxley  does  not  see  what  this  has  to  do 
with  Materialism.  Eeally?  Nor,  I  suppose,  has  it  anything 
to  do  with  Materialism  that  he  once  more  asserts  that  "  all 
the  so-called  spontaneous  operations  of  the  mind""  are  ^'con- 
nected in  natural  series  of  causes  and  effects''  with  '^  physical 
phenomena,"  J    the   latter  being  causes  and  the   ''  so  called 

*  Let  me,  in  passing,  correct  another  strange  niist?,ke  of  Professor 
Huxley's.  He  writes  (p.  794),  "Dr.  Biicliner,  whom  IVIr.  Lilly 
appears  to  consider  an  authority  in  j^hysical  science."  I  cannot 
conceive  how  this  "appears,"  for  I  have  never  said  it,  nor  in  any 
way  implied  it. 

t  Lay  Sermons,  p.  142. 

t  P.  798. 


APPENDIX.]     A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.        253 

spontaneous  operations"  effects  of  them  ?  Well,  if  what  we 
call  matter  and  energy  really  is  what  we  call  it,  and  is  not 
another  name  for  mind,  then  the  extension  of  its  province  to 
all  reirlons  of  thouo;ht  should  slo^nlfy  that  in  course  of  time  all 
"  phenomena,"  mental  as  well  as  material,  will  be  included 
under  matter  and  energy.  But  I  may  be  reminded  that  Pro- 
fessor Huxley,  In  discoursing  to  the  '^  Christian  Young  Men" 
of  Cambridge,  told  them  ''It  is  an  indisputable  truth  that 
what  we  call  the  material  world  is  only  known  to  us  under 
the  forms  of  the  ideal  world,  and^  as  Descartes  tells  us,  our 
knowledi][e  of  the  soul  Is  more  intimate  and  certain  than  our 
knowledge  of  the  body."  *  Yes;  certainly  Professor  Huxley 
is  the  author  of  both  of  tlies3  statements,  one  of  which  banishes 
soul  and  spirit  and  makes  matter  supreme,  the  other  of  which 
reduces  matter  to  a  mental  state,  and  gives  mind  the  supre- 
macy. If  we  are  to  follow  him  In  his  lecture  on  Descartes, 
the  progress  of  knowledge  should  mean  the  extension  of  the 
province  of  what  we  call  "  soul/'  and  which  is  likewise  called 
spirit,  mind,  personality,  to  all  regions  of  human  thought, 
and  the  ideal  transformation  of  what  we  call  matter  and 
force.  But,  as  we  have  just  seen.  Professor  Huxley  main- 
tains the  opposite  of  this  also,  and  makes  the  progress  of 
science  identical  with  the  triumph  of  matter.  Are  we  to 
describe  him  as  an  Idealist  on  the  strength  of  one  passage,  or 
as  a  Materialist  upon  the  strength  of  the  other  ?  or  must  we 
say  that  when  he  is  not  a  Materialist  he  is  an  Idealist,  and 
vice  versa  ?  There  is  manifestly  something  here  which 
requires  clearing  up.  Even  at  the  risk  of  being  accounted  no 
better  than  a  medieval  disputant,  I  venture  to  say  that  one  of 
the  two  passages  must  go  ;  no  compromise  between  them  is 
possible. 

That,  however,  is  a  matter  for  Professor  Huxley.     I  pro- 

*  Lay  Senno}LS,  p.  340. 


254 


THE  PROVIXCE  OF  PHYSICS.         [appendix. 


cecd  to  note  his  dictnm  that  ^4he  orrowth  of  science,  not 
merely  of  pliysical  science,  but  all  science,  means  the  demon- 
stration of  order  and  natural  causation  amonc^  i^henomcna 
which  had  not  previously  been  brought  under  those  conce})- 
tions."*  Now,  if  Professor  Huxley  were  a  medieval  dis- 
putant and  had  ^'  posted  up  "  this  thesis,  I  should  vehemently 
desiderate  from  him  a  little  definition.  What  does  "  order  " 
mean?  What  is  '^natural  causation"?  If,  as  I  suspect, 
"  natural ''  is  here  equivalent  to  physical.  Professor  Huxley 
implies  that  the  growth  of  science — of  all  science"— consists 
in  the  reduction  of  mental  problems  to  those  of  matter  and 
force — in  short,  to  mechanics  and  the  expression  of  '^  con- 
sciousness "  in  foot-pounds.  But  if  '^  natural  causation  "  may 
be  hyperphysical  (I  beg  of  Professor  Huxley  to  note  the  word) 
as  well  as  physical,  does  this  establishment  of  it  imply  neces- 
sarilv  the  extension  of  the  i)rovincc  of  matter  and  force? 
These  are  important  questions,  and  as  a  perplexed  reader  of 
Professor  Huxley's  waitings  I  should  be  grateful  for  a  little 
light  upon  them,  if  the  Professor  is  in  a  condition  to  radiate 
it.  As  for  the  word  "  order,"  is  there  any  reason  why  a 
mental  or  a  spiritual  order  should  not  exist  over  and  above  a 
physical  order?  And  again  we  may  ask,  in  no  spirit  of  im- 
pertinent curiosity,  how  will  it  extend  the  sway  of  matter  and 
force,  to  enlarge  our  conception  of  mental  or  spiritual  order, 
distinct  from  physical  ? 

Moreover  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Professor  Huxley, 
who  distinouishes  for  the  moment  between  ''])hysical  science" 
and  ''all  science,"  has  written  elsewhere,  "If  there  is  one 
thino-  clear  about  the  proo-ress  of  modern  science,  it  is  the 
tendency  to  reduce  all  scientific  problems,  except  those  which 
are  j)urely  mathematical,  to  questions  of  molecular  physics  — 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  attractions,  repulsions,  motions,  and  co- 

*  P.  798. 


APPENDIX.]      A  PEJOINDER  TO  PROF  HUXLEY.        255 

ordination  of  the  ultimate  particles  of  matter."  *  Let  him 
bear  with  me  if  I  ask  him  wdiether  mental  problems — problems 
of  consciousness — are  scientific  or  not?  If  they  are,  then  the 
clear  tendency  of  modern  science — approved,  as  is  manifest, 
by  Professor  Huxley  —  is  to  reduce  them  to  problems  of 
molecular  physics,  which,  truly,  if  it  could  be  done,  would 
make  the  empire  of  matter  and  force  iniiversal.  Nor  is  there 
any  other  way  of  banishing  "  spirit  and  spontaneity  "  from 
human  thought.  But  to  take  the  other  alternative,  will  Pro- 
fessor Huxley  say  that  problems  of  consciousness  are  not 
scientific  ?  In  various  parts  of  his  paper  in  the  December 
Fortnightly  he  insists,  with  indignant  emphasis,  that  he  does 
not  pretend  to  bring  "  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  within 
the  bounds  of  physical  science."  Therefore,  it  would  seem 
they  are  not  scientific  at  all ;  for  as  he  has  told  us,  in  words 
jtist  now  quoted,  it  is  the  tendency  of  modern  science  to  bring 
"  all  scientific  problems  "  within  those  bounds.  Grant  them 
not  to  be  '^  scientific,"  and  how  will  the  province  of  matter 
and  force  be  made  to  include  them  ?  In  no  way  ;  and  then 
there  will  be  a  limit  to  the  extension  of  that  province:  it  will 
never  become  conterminous  with  all  reo-ions  of  human 
thought.  It  would  be  like  the  liftino;  of  a  foo;  if  Professor 
Huxley  would  tell  us  which  of  the  foreo-oino;  alternatives  he 
j)]'oposes  to  defend.  Is  psychology  a  science  ?  Is  it  reducible 
to  molecular  physics  ?  Is  not  such  a  reduction  tantamount 
to  jMaterialism  ?  Is  every  problem,  transcendental  and  other, 
to  be  solved  by  the  methods  of  i)hysical  science  ?  Or  are 
there  regions  of  human  thought  Avhere  physics  cannot  find  an 
entrance  ?  For  if  there  be,  in  such  we  may  find  room  for 
spirit — nay,  perhaps,  even  fi)r  "  spontaneity."  At  any  rate, 
universal  "  causation,"  reducible  to  the  pullingsand  pushings 
of  the  final  particles  of  matter,  will  have  to  be  given  up,  or 

*  Lay  Sermons,  p.  166. 


I: 


if 


256 


THE  PllOViyCE  OF  PHYSICS.         [appendix. 


Materialism,  of  wliicli  this  doctrine  is  the  expression,  must  be 
accepted. 

Professor  Huxley,  however,  identifies  the  f^rowth  of  science 
with   the    extension    of  '^  natural    causation,"    and  he  fully 
acquiesces  in  the  tendency  to  reduce  ''all  scientific  problems" 
to  those  of  molecular  physics.      Is  it  misrepresenting  him, 
then — the  writer,  I  mean,  not  the  inner  consciousness  of  the 
individual  man — to  assert  that  he  ''  puts  aside  as  unvcrifiable 
everytliing    which  cannot,"  by  some  process  or  other,  ''  be 
verified  by  the  senses?  "      Again,  it  is  his  opinion  that  ''  as 
surely  as  every  future  grows  out  of  past  and  present,  so  will 
the  physiology  of  the  future  gradually  extend  the  realm  of 
matter  and  law,  until  it  is  coextensive  with  knowledge,  with 
feeling,  with  action."  *     It  appears,  then,  that  to  extend  the 
realm  of  matter  and    of  law   is    one   and   the    same    thing. 
Matter,  law,  order,  universal  causation — to    say    one    is  to 
imply  the  rest.     But  it  is  the  senses  which  deal  with  matter. 
If  there  is  nothing  beyond  matter,  there  is  nothing  "  which 
the  senses  cannot  verify,"  nothing  "  beyond  the  bounds  of 
physical  science,"  nothing  "  which  cannot  be  brought  into  a 
laboratory  and  dealt  with  chemically."     If  the  problems  of 
consciousness  lie  under  the  jurisdiction  of  physical  science, 
ipso  facto  they  are  subject  to  the  laws  and  tests  of  molccidnr 
physics.      How   is  it  misrepresenting  Professor  Huxley  to 
debit  him  with  the  conclusions  of  his  own  premises  ? 

But  the  professor  is  indignant  to  an  extent  which  the 
])roprieties  do  not  allow  him  adequately  to  express.  Does 
Mr.  Lilly  mean  to  tell  me,  he  asks^f  that  my  intellectual  con- 
victions, my  aesthetic  or  logical  faculty,  my  delight  in  the 
line  arts,  lie  within  the  bounds  of  physical  science,  or  are 
verifiable  by  the  senses,  or  can  be  tested  chemically?  Do  / 
mean  to  tell  him  so  ?     God  forbid  !     It  is  lie  who,  to  be  con- 


*  Laii  ScDiivuSf  p.  142. 


t  P.  789,  6e<x. 


APPENDIX.]     A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.       267 


sistent  with  the  enunciations  which  I  have  quoted  from  him, 
should  tell  me  so.     I  am  very  well  aware  that  the  senses,  on 
which  the  science  of  molecular  i)liysics  is   founded,   know 
nothing  of  style  and  syllogisms,"  and  I  believe  they  know 
as  little  of  the  "  keen  perception  of  the  beauty  offered  us  by 
nature  and  by  art."   Neither  is  it  by  the  senses  that  we  verify 
the  truths  of  mathematics,  of  philosophy,  of  history.     But  if 
these  are  truths  belonging  to  the  ''regions  of  human  thouo-ht ," 
then  the  gradual  extension  of  "  order  "  and  "  natural  causa- 
tion "  should,  according  to  Professor  Pluxley's  dictum,  bring 
them  one  day  into  the  province  of  physics.      Is  not  "  the 
realm   of  matter   and   law"  to   "become  coextensive   with 
knowledge,  with  feeling,  with  action  "  ?     Then  it  will,  when 
spirit  has  been  put  to  the  ban,  include  su?h  things  as  the 
binomial  theorem,  and  the  truth  in  any  given  history  of  Home. 
For  are  not  these  products  of  that  "  consciousness  "   at   a 
"  mechanical  equivalent "   of  which,  Professor  Huxley  tells 
us,  we  shall  sooner  or  later  arrive,  "just  as  we  have  arrived 
at  a  mechanical  equivalent  of  heat?"     The  Professor  deems 
these  conclusions  extremely  absurd — "preposterous"  is  his 
word.     So  do  I.     But  what,  if  they  flow  from  his  premises 
about  the  reduction  of  scientific  problems  to  those  of  molecular 
physics,  and  the  identification  of  law  with  matter,  and  of  both 
with  knowledge,  feeling,  and  action  ? 

Professor  Huxley  inquires  whether  any  human  being  puts 
aside  as  unvcrifiable  everything  which  the  senses  cannot 
verify.  He  makes  good  play  with  the  question,  repeating  it, 
in  divers  forms,  with  brilliant  effect,  which  shows  that  his 
right  hand  has  by  no  means  forgotten  its  cunning.  His  is  one 
of  those  opulent  and  puissant  natures  that  age  cannot  wither 
nor  custom  stale  their  infinite  variety.  Will  he  suffer  me  for 
clearness'  sake,  in  answering  his  question,  to  speak  once  more 
after  the  manner  of  a  medieval  disputant,  and  to  say,  Dis- 
tlnguo.     That  no  human  being  puts  aside  in  fact  every  thin  o- 

S 


2bS 


THE  FliOVINCE  OF  FlIYSICS.      [appefdix. 


that  the  senses  cannot  verify,  I  allow,  or  rather,  maintain. 
But  all  human  beings  do  so  in  theorij  who  arc  of  the  school  of 
Sensationalism  or  Materialism.     I  was  not  discussing  in  my 
paper  what  Professor  Huxley  does,  for  he  does  what  we  all 
do :  his  daily  life  is  ordered  and  governed  by  a  great  number 
of  certitudes  which  the   senses  cannot  verify.     No.     I  was 
rehearsing  what  he  had  said,  and  was  pointing  out  that  it  in- 
volved, and  so  far  as  I  could  understand  expressed,  a  theory 
which  forbids  us  to  accept  as  true  or  certain  whatever  lies 
outside  the  bounds  of  physical  science— whatever,  therefore, 
cannot  be  brought  into  a  laboratory  and  dealt  with  chemi- 
cally.    I    did    not    say   that    Professor    Huxley's   mind   is 
Materialistic— it  is  too  richly  endowed,  as  I  expressly  re- 
cognised,* to  be  dominated  by  ''  Pig-philosophy  " — but  that 
his  theory  is.     And  I  say  so  again,  with  the  full  knowledge 
that  he  has  often  employed  language  diametrically  oi)posed  to 
Materialism,  and  that  he  may,  in  a  true  sense,  be  regarded 
rather  as  the  candid  friend  than  the  irreconcilable  enemy  of 
the  Higher  Theism.    I  say  that  the  passages  from  his  writings 
which  I  have  brought  forward,  either  have  no  definite  mean- 
in  or,  or  else  contain  the  doctrine  that  matter  gives  rise  to 
mind  by  a  process  of  natural  causation,  in  which  the  series 
of  causes  and  effects  is  unbroken  ;    in  other  words,  where 
there    are  physical    causes   at   the   beginning   of  the   chain 
and  mental  effects  at  the  end  of  it.     And  I  call  that  doctrine 
Materialism. 

So  much  as  to  the  main  point  at  issue  between  Professor 
Huxley  and  myself.  But  there  are  yet  some  things  to  be  said 
before  my  explanation  wdll  attain  that  completeness  which  I 
desire  it  to  possess.  The  Professor  tells  us  that  he  heartily 
repudiates  '^  the  doctrine  of  Kraft  and  Stojf' — force  and 
matter — as  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  existence,   the   funda- 


o77. 


APPENDIX.]     A  liEJOINDEU  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY.        259 

mental    article   of  the  faith  Materiahstic ;  "  *    and  that  for 
witnessing  against  it  he  has  suffered  reproach  as  being   "  re- 
trograde "  and  even — horresco  referens—"  an  obscurantist."  f 
Moreover  he  reiterates  what  he  has  said,  "  not  once  but  con- 
stantly," on  the  impassable  gulf  which  divides  neurosis  from 
psjchosis.     How  are  we  to  reconcile  these  strong  convictions 
and  arguments  with  what  I  have  quoted  from  him,  and  with 
a  large  number  of  other  passages  to  the  same  effect  which  I 
have  collected  from  his  writings,  but  which  the  time  would 
fail  me  to  transcribe  ?     If  Professor  Huxley  agrees  with  Pro- 
fessor  Tyndall  that  there  is  "  an  impassable  gulf,"  how  can 
he  attribute  the  causation  of  psychosis  to  neurosis,  which  we 
have  seen  him  do  repeatedly  when  stating  that  "  molecular 
changes  are  i\\Q  cause  of  psychical  phenomena"?     A  gulf 
which  may  be  traversed  by  causation  ceases  to  be  an  ^^im- 
passable gulf;  "  w^e  must  employ  another  metaphor  and  speak 
of  the  links  in  an  unbroken  series  of  causes   and   effects. 
When   neurosis    calls  psychosis  into   existence    the   gulf  is 
thereby  bridged.     But  we  shall  be  told,  the  process  remains 
inscrutable.    The  answer  to  that  may  be  given  in  four  words : 
Every  process  is  inscrutable.     We  do  not  know  the  how  of  a 
single  causal  nexus.    The  question  therefore  remains,  on  what 
ground   can   a   writer,  of  good  faith  as  indubitable  as  his 
intellectual  power,,  who  makes  mind    the  product  or  result 
or  effect  of  molecular  changes,  decline  to  be  ranked  as  a 
Materialist  ? 

The  probable  solution  of  this  grave  difficulty  lies,  as  I  have 
already  indicated,  in  Professor  Huxley's  announcement,  that 
he  believes  in  the  relativity  of  our  knowledge.  He  prefers  to 
speak  "  of  what  we  call  matter  and  energy,"  *'  what  we  call 
psychical  phenomena."  He  is  perhaps  of  opinion  that  the 
doctrine   of  relativity    makes    Materialism    impossible,    and 


*  P.  704. 


t  P.  79G 


«2 


2  GO 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS,     [appendix. 


Idealism  too.     So  it  does,  in  an  absolute  sense  ;  but  so  it  does 
not   in   a   relative.      It   reduces   all    our   knowledge   to   an 
acquaintance    witli   phenomena,    doubtless ;  it  leaves  intact, 
however,  the  problem,  wdiicli  set  of  phenomena  gives  rise  to 
the  other,  which  calls  the  other  into  existence,  or  whicli  we 
should  account  causes,  in  a  relative  sense,  and  which  effects. 
But  in  its  influence  on  the  social  order,  on  morals  and  life,  a 
relative  would  be  no  less  disastrous  than  an  absolute  Material- 
ism.    For  the  mass  of  men  are  not  metaphysicians,  and  to 
them  the  distinction  between  relative  and  absolute  ctm  have 
no    meaning.     A   sensualist   is   willing   to    indulge   himself 
"phenomenally"   and   '^  relatively,"  if  he  finds  the  effects 
agreeable,  precisely  as  under  former  systems  of  thought  he 
mifrht  have  done  so  "  absolutelv  "  and  "  really."     The  change 
of  name  can  make  no  difference.     And  thus  Physicus^  in  his 
well-known  book,*  when  he  has  considered  "  the  bearing  on 
Materialism  of  the  simple  doctrine  of  Eelatlvity,"  concludes, 
"  Here  we  saw  that  Materialism   w^as  only  affected  to  the 
extent  of  being  compelled  to  allow  that  what  we  know  as 
matter  and  motion  are  not  known  in  themselves."     "  But," 
he  goes  on  to  say,   "we  also  saw  that  as  the    inscrutable 
realities  are  uniformly  translated  into  consciousness  as  matter 
and  motion,  it  still  remains  as  true  as  ever  that  ichat  we  knoio 
as  matter  and  motion  may  be  the  causes  of  what  we  know  as 
mind."     In  like  manner,  with  reference  to  the  late  Professor 
Clifford's   dictum   that   a    "  moving   molecule    of    inorganic 
matter  does  not  possess  mind  or  consciousness,  but  it  pos- 
sesses a  small  piece  of  mind  stuff,"  Phjsicus  remarks,  that 
if  it  be  true,  "  then  assuredly  the  central  position  of  Material- 
ism is  shown  to  be  impregnable."     Now  Physicus,  however 
we  may  account  of  him,  is  not  tainted  with  the  suspicion 
of  scholasticism.     Consider,   again,    Mr.   Spencer's  teaching 

*  P.  187. 


APPENDIX.]     A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY, 


261 


upon  the  relativity  of  knowledge  and  the  persistence  of  force. 
What  is  its  outcome  but  the  doctrine  of  self-existent  matter  ? 
Take  his  own  statement:  "  Clearly,  therefore,  the  proposition 
that  an  '  originating  mind '  is  the  cause  of  Evolution  is  a 
proposition  that  can  be  entertained  so  long  only  as  no  attempt 
is  made  to  unite  in  thought  its  two  terms  in  the  alleged 
relation."  *  But  of  course  Mr.  Spencer  does  not  "  post  up  " 
Materialism  in  the  absolute  sense  of  the  old  and  artless  Realists. 
My  point  is,  however,  that  the  multitudes  of  men  are  and 
must  be  artless  Realists,  and  that  they  are  taking  the  Material- 
ism of  Mr.  Spencer,  Professor  Huxley,  and  Mr.  Clifford 
au  pied  de  la  lettre,  Avith  the  consequences  which  I  have 
endeavoured  to  depict  in  my  article  Matei^ialism  and  Morality, 
It  is  not,  therefore,  on  the  score  of  language  merely,  nor 
by  singling  out  isolated  passages,  not,  assuredly,  for  the  sake 
of  controversy,  for  which  I  have  neither  aptitude  nor  taste, 
but  because,  on  taking  all  the  evidence  into  account.  I 
deemed  it  so,  that  I  spoke  of  Professor  Huxley's  writings  as 
tendino;  to  elevate  Materialism  into  the  reifrnlnfr  creed  of  the 
day.  It  might  be  feasible  to  show  that  various  authors,  to 
whom  no  one  would  attribute  Materialism,  have  used  un- 
guarded or  equivocal  expressions ;  but  it  is  not  by  reason  of 
such  that,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  I  feel  obliged  to  main- 
tain my  former  position,  adding  of  course  that,  neither  then 
nor  now,  have  I  dreamt  of  penetrating  into  the  depths  of 
Professor  Huxley's  consciousness.  He  appears  to  think  the 
combination  of  Phenomenist  and  Materialist  impossible.  It 
seems  to  me  that  betw^een  these  two  forms  of  neixatlon  there 
is  a  natural  afflnitv.  The  Materialist  denies  mind  altoofcther, 
or  makes  it  a  function  of  matter;  the  Phenomenist  denies 
that  facultv  of  intuition  wdilch  is  the  essential  characteristic 
of  mind,  and  calling  mind  a  phenomenon  breaks  down  the 


See  the  whole  passage  in  his  Essays,  vol.  iii.  pp.  246-249. 


262 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  PHYSICS,     [appendix. 


distinction  that  severs  it  from  those  material  entities  which 
really  are  phenomena.  I  do  not  think  Professor  Huxley 
escapes  from  the  Materialism  which  has  been  called,  most 
unwarrantably,  ^^  The  Creed  of  Science,"  by  adopting  the 
doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge.  Shall  I  appear  to 
him  no  better  than  a  medieval  disputant  if  I  say  that  this 
seems  to  me  to  be  merely  adding  a  second  error  to  the 
first  ? 

"  The    Creed  of  Science."     "  The  relation  of   science   to 
morals."     Employing  the  term  physics,  as  less  open  to  am- 
biguity,  I   am   here   brought   back  to  what  I  said  at   the 
beginning,  that  physics,  as    such,  is    not    conversant    with 
morals,    neither  affirms  nor  denies  religion,  and  can  there- 
fore have  no  creed  in  regard  to  either.     We  do  not  talk  of 
the  religion  of  the  sense  of  hearing,  nor  of  its  irreligion  ;  such 
an  expression  would  be  absurd.      In  like  manner  physics, 
which  is  wholly   the    science    of  the   senses,  abstracts   from 
religion,  from,  morality,  and  from  everv  kind  of  knowledo-e 
so  far  as  the  latter  is  independent  of  sense.     I  say  "  abstracts 
from,"  I  do  not  say  ^'rejects,"  or  '^repudiates,"  or  ^'denies." 
Physical  science  merely  attends  to  its  own  business,  and  it  is 
no  part  of  its  business  to  deal  with  what  the  late  Mr.  Lewes 
denominated   the  "  metempirical."     It  is  not  Agnostic,  for 
Agnosticism   implies  a  knowledge  of  one's  own  io-iiorance  • 
and  pnysical  science  does  not  know  that  it  is  ignorant,  any 
more    than    a    mollusc  knows  that    it   is    not  moral.     It  is 
wonderful  how  much  has  been  made  out  to  the  prejudice  of 
religion  as  of  morality,  from  the  obvious  canon  of  WAc  that, 
every  science  having  its  proper  object,  the  proper  object  of 
physics  does  not  include  God  or  the  moral  order.     Science, 
all    science,  has  on  the   strength  of  this  been   described  as 
hostile    to   metaphysical  ])rinciples,  to  belief  in  a   Personal 
Deity,  and  to  an  a  priori  standard  of  ethics.     Hostile,  pliy- 
sical    science   is   not;    indifferent,   it  is  and    ouo-lit    to   be. 


APPENDIX.]     A  REJOINDER  TO  PROF.  HUXLEY. 


263 


Professor    Huxley   asks,    In   what  laboratory   questions   of 
flBsthetics  and  historical  truth  can  be  tested  ?     In  none,  as  we 
both  agree.     But  it  is  curious  that  he  should  think  of  safe- 
guarding morality  by  means  of  that  science  which  cannot 
even  attain  to  the  laws  of  historical  criticism.     He  will,  per- 
haps, assure  me  that  I  mistake  him  again.     Well,  I  do  not 
mistake   in  asserting  that  he  considers  physical  science  ''  a 
better  guardian  of  morality"  than  "  i\iQ  pair  of  shrews," 
philosophy  and  theology.     I  will  say  what  strikes  me  on  that 
point,    and  so  conclude  this  paper,  which  has  extended  far 
beyond  what  I  proposed  to  myself  when  I  began  to  write  it. 
But  whether  one  agrees  with  Professor  Huxley  or  disagrees, 
his  pages  are  so  fascinating  that  it  is  difficult  to  tear  oneself 
away  from  them. 

The  morality  of  an  act,  we  must  all  surely  admit,  is  not  a 
physical  quality ;  it  resides  in  the  motive,  and  again  in  the 
nature  of  the  act ;  whether,  namely,  the  latter  is  Tonformable 
to  a  standard  of  perfection  which  the  mind  alone  apprehends. 
The  ou:ward  effects  of  two  actions  may  be  precisely  similar, 
as  when  an  assassin  slays  his  victim  and  an  executioner  hangs 
a   convicted   criminal.      But  one  of  these  acts  will  be  foul 
murder ;    the    other  a  righteous  ministration   of  retributive 
justice.     Will  Professor  Huxley  point  out  any  science  which 
is  not  a  part  of  philosophy  or  theology,  and  is  yet  competent 
to  discriminate  between  these  two  acts?  What  can  '^ science" 
affirm  about  them  unless  it  becomes  philosophy  or  theology  ? 
Nothing   whatever.       Physical    science  perceives   only  "that 
which    the  senses    grasp  ;  and  the  senses  know  nothing  of 
justice  or  injustice.  Is  it  by  physics  that  we  know  when  social 
disoro:anisation  is  the  consequence  of  immorality  ?     I  trow 
not.     To  physics  the  deeds  of  a  Wellington  and  of  a  Genghiz 
Khan   are  '^  molecular  changes,"  and   no   more.      Phv^ical 
science  may  predict  that  if  certain  physical  actions  take  place, 
certain   physical    structures  will    be  injured    or   broken  up! 


264 


THE  PROViyCE  OF  PHYSICS,      [appendix. 


But  it  can  never  tell  what  is  the  moral  quality  of  those  phy- 
sical   actions.     The  taint  of  leprosy  may  be  contracted  by 
vicious  habits,  or  in  the  exercise  of  sublimest  self-sacrifice. 
But  can  ''  science ''  inform  us  whether  Perc  Damien,  in  his 
fearful  prison  at  Molokai,  contracted  it  because  he  was  irood 
or  because  he  was  evil  ?    Therefore,  I  must  affirm,  that  while 
physical  science  may  be,  and  ought  to  be,  the    servant  of 
morality,  it  can  never,  in  any  proper  sense,  be  its  guardian. 
The  only  effective  guardian   of  morality  is   religion,  which 
affords  it  a  sanction  and  a  reward,  which  incarnates  it  in 
august  symbolism  and  utters  it  in  divine  command  for  all  those 
— they  are,  and  ever  must  be,  the  overwhelming  majority — 
who  cannot  lay  hold  of  an  abstruse  philosophy,  but  need  to 
be  taught  as  children.     Physical  science  may  indeed  mark 
the  difference,  which  in  time  becomes  outward  and  visible, 
between  those  who  cultivate  morality  and  those  who  trample 
it  under  foot.     But  there  its  competency  stops  ;  its  powers  of 
interpretation  are  exhausted.     What  lies  at  the  root  of  the 
difference  it  can  never  tell.     It  has  no  means  of  diseernino- 
virtue  or  vice,  and  to  intrust  the  age  to  its  guidance  would 
be  like  asking  one's  way  of  a  blind  giant.     That  he  was  a 
giant  would  be  no  compensation  for  his  want  of  sight;  and, 
if  he  thought  himself  all  the  more  at  liberty  because  lie  per- 
ceived no  hindrance  to  his  action,  so  much  the  Averse  would 
it  be  for  those  whom  he  dragged  along  with  him.     I  have 
applied  the  parable  in  the  paper  which  Professor  Huxley  has 
criticised.     Physical  science,  apart  from  philosophy  and  reli- 
gion, is  indeed  a  giant,  but  it  is  blind.    And  when  it  proceeds 
unscientifically  to  formulate  its  ignorance  into  a  creed,  it  is 
doing  its  best  not  to  subserve  moralitv,  but  to  ruin  it. 


INDEX. 


Absolute,  the,  how  men  talk  of  .         .         . 

denied  by  the  new  philosophy   . 
the  old  philosophy  rooted  and  grounded  in 
is  the  true  end  of  man        .... 
is  tlie  basis  of  marriage     .... 
is  the  True,  the  Good,  the  Beautiful . 
all  our  intellectual  operations  have  relation  to 
Adultery,  in  materialistic  ethics 

and  Christian  marriage      .... 
Ambrose,  St.,  on  divorce  and  re-marriage 
Amie],  on  contemporary  materialism 
Aquinas,  St.  Thomas,  his  teaching  as  to  matter 
on  the  lex  naturalis     ..... 
on  punishment  .  . 

on  the  lawfulness  of  property    . 
on  the  conception  of  a  thing  as  doable 
on  human  freedom  and  divine  foreknowledgfe 
Architecture,  the,  of  the  age     .... 
Aristotle,  on  the  difference  between  man  and  the 
rest  of  animate  existence 
on  intelligence  in  nature    . 
his  definition  of  freedom    . 
on  justice  ..... 
on  the  rational  nature  and  the  law  of  habit 
on  the  end  of  civil  society . 
on  the  province  of  political  science 
his  classification  of  liars     . 
on  the  common  element  of  all  virtues 
Arnold,  Dr.  on  the  worship  of  force . 
Arnold,  Mr.  Matthew,  on  the  source  of  rights 
Art,  has  passed  under  the  materialistic  yoke 
its  value  in  historical  researches 
animal        ..... 


PAGE 

64 

96 

96 

118 

216 

226 

228 

49,50 

205 

205 

24 

63 

97,  106 

129 

194 

238 

238 

223 

101 

102 

103 

109 

138 

152 

153 

172 

231 

151 

44 

22 

221 

222,  227 


266 


INDEX 


INDEX, 


267 


Art —  continued. 

is  the  very  nature  of  man 

tlie,  of  the  nineteenth  century    . 

has  become  "  bourgeois  "    . 

the  true  theory  of       . 

the  ethical  laws  which  should  govern  it 
Atheism,  practical     ..... 
Austin,  on  the  two  meanings  of  "  right  "  . 
Augustine,  St.,  on  courtesans    . 

on  the  diversity  of  moral  judgments  . 

on  punishment   ..... 

on  divorce  and  re-mai-riage 

Bagehot,  j\Ir.,  on  Lord  Lyndhurst     . 
Bain,  Dr.  on  public  opinion 
Balzac,  on  the  idealising  of  crime 

on  marriage        ..... 
Bax,  Mr.  Belfort,  on  the  end  of  true  Socialism 
Beaconsfield,  the  Earl  of,  his   "  education  "  of  th 
Conservative  party 
his  picture  of  the  English  peasantry 
Beaussire,  M.  on  the  crisis  of  morality 

on  positivism  in  France 
Beauty,  is  of  the  intellect 

not  of  the  senses         .... 

the  feeling  of,  penetrates  to  the  animal  world 

springs  from  the  same  fount  as  morality 

ideal  

Bentham,  his  account  of  crime, 
on  pleasure  and  pain 
Mr.  Spencer's  criticism  of 
Bible,  the,  contains  no  code  of  scientific  ethics 
Bibles,  cheap,  how  produced     . 
Bossuet,  on  free  will  .... 

Bradlaugh,  Mr.  Charles,  on  socialism  and  communism 
Brain,  the,  is  the  organ  rather  of  phmitasmafa  than  of 

thought  

physically  considered 

Biichner,  Herr,  his  Kraft  nnd  Sfoff'  . 


PAr.E 

222 

222-226 

226 

227-230 

2:30-236 

176 

2 

32 

106 

126 

205 

142 
46 

28 
219 
190 

145 

185 

4 

19 

23 

231,  257 

222 

231 

233 

42 

49 

69,81 

211 

184 

138 

190 

61 
250,  252 


en 


Buddhism,  its  special  glory       .... 

its  work  for  woman    ..... 
Butler,  Bishop,  on  punishment 

on  the  law  of  conscience     .... 

Ca^sarism,  the  principle  of         ...         . 

Cambaceres,  on  legitimate  and  illegitimate  childr 

Capital,  how  treated  by  Socialism     . 

Carlyle,  Mr.,  on  an  Englishman's  real  beliefs   . 

on  the  mechanical  conception  of  the  public  order 
on  "the  true  Church  of  England"     . 
on  the  Benthamite  doctrine 
on  the  lot  of  the  dumb  millions . 
Categorical  Imperative,  the,  what  it  means 

implies  freedom  of  the  will 
Causal  nexus,  the,  our  ignorance  of  . 
Certitude,  the  highest  criterion  of     . 
Chaos,  the  present  industrial,  cause  of 
Chamberlain,  Mr.,  his  doctrine  of  "  ransom  "    . 
Chateaubriand,  on  Democracy  .... 

"  Christian   Young  Men,"   Professor  Huxley's  dis 
course  to  .....         . 

Christianity,  and  Conscience     .... 

its  woi'k  for  marriage  .... 

its  teaching  as  to  right       .... 

jiist  vengeance  not  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of 

its  ethics  independent  of  its  specific  dogmas 

Church,  Dean,  on  the  invalidation  of  the  ideaof  purity 

Church,  the  Catholic,  and  mai'riage  . 

Civilisation,  is  first  and  before  all  things,  ethical 

the  existing,  depends  upon  marriage 
Clement    Yll.,    Pope,  his    conduct  in   judging   the 

matrimonial  cause  of  Henry  VIII. 
Clifford,  Professor,  his  "  idealism  "  . 

Materialism  the  outcome  of  his  doctrine    . 
on  free  agency    ...... 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  on  Reason       .... 

on  the  distinction  between  person  and  thing 
Competition,  the  regime  of         ...         , 


PAG  E 

4 
204 
131 
175 

149 
29 

189-191 
120 
139 
162 
186 
199 
126 
138 

61,  246 
100 
200 
198 
159 

253 

4 

28, 203-207 

111 

131 

36,211,244 

31 

204-207 

152 

203 

206 

9 

15,  260 

27 

95 

153 

194,  199 


268 


INDEX. 


Concupiscence,  as  a  foundation  of  ethics  . 
Conscience,  its  supreme  authority  denied . 

the  old  conception  of  .         .         .    *      • 

Mr.  Spencer's  account  of    . 

is  the  organon  of  the  moral  law 

the  word  of  comparatively  late  origin 

is  in  a  permanent  state  of  becoming  . 

the  public  ....... 

reverence  for,  the   first   principle   of   a   man'j 
ethical  life      ...... 

is  at  the  root  of  the  laws  of  a  nation . 

and  journalism  ...... 

the  law  of,  is  supreme  over  a  man's  spiritual,  in 
lectual,  and  physical  faculties 
Consciousness,  can  be  predicated  in  the  proper  sense 
only  of  man    ...... 

and  right    ....... 

Professor  Huxley's  doctrine  of  . 
Consequences,  are  not  a  criterion  in  ethics 

are  an  element  in  ratiocination  . 
Contract,  all  rights  do  not  arise  from 

freedom  of  ...... 


marriage  as  a 


tel- 


Contraction,  muscular,  Professor  Huxley  on     . 
Co-operation  the  true  basis  of  the  industrial  system 
Cook,  Mr.  H.,  on  the  muddle  of  certain  physicists 
Crime,  is  the  assertion  of  a  man's  particular  self 
will  against  the  universal  will 
gives  rise  to  a  vinculu7)i  juris 
Cud  worth,  on  truth  ...... 

Daudet,  M.,  on  amours  de  chair 
Delectation  and  duty         ..... 
Democracy,  the  dominant  fact  of  the  age . 
Derby,  the  late  Earl  of,  his  celebrated  feat 
Determinism      ....... 

and  crime  ....... 

involved  in  materialistic  ethics  . 

as  taught  by  'Mv.  Herbei-t  Spencei' 

Mr.  Mill's  statement  of  the  creed  of  . 


PAGE 

39 

6 

45 

85,87 
106 
107 
108 
154 

154 

156 

163, 165 

197 

103 
179 

249 

56 

59 

112 

196 

213 

41 

200 

242 

127 
133 
167 

21 

49 

159 

144 

25-28,54-55 

136-137 

54 

75-80,  84 

1.36 


INDEX, 


269 


PAGE 

Determinism — continued. 

not  taught  by  St.  Thomas  Aquinas    .         .         .  238 

Devas,  Mr.  C.  S.,  on  the  wealth  of  the  rich  classes  .  197 

Divorce,  has  no  place  in  the  Catholic  Church  .         .  206 

Divorce  Court,  the,  its  demoralising  effect        .         .  31 

Docta  ignorantia          .......  65 

Duty,  Avhat  it  means 48,  104 

and  delectation  .......  49 

Professor    Sidgwick    on   the    implication    from 

the  conception  of    .         .         .         .         .         .  106 

the  sense  of,  is  a  form  of  the  mind     .         .         .  106 

the  first  word  and  the  last          ....  139 

of  an  employer  to  his  work-people      .         .         .  194-5 

E(jo^  the,  its  individuality  and  permanency       .         .  60 

Mr.  Spencer  on  ......         ,  77 

Emerson,  on  the  aim  in  the  fine  arts          ...  229 

Erskine,  Lord,  on  liberty  of  the  press        .          .          .  165 

Ethics,  formerly  bound  up  with  religions           .         .  4 

actual  crisis  of   .         .         .         .         .         .         .  4-36 

have  rested  on  metaphysical  credenda         .         .  5 
dogmas  of,   have  been  the  condition  of  social 

cohesion ........  6 

Materialistic .  37-65 

the  manufacturers  of  Materialistic     ...  38 

only  two  schools  of    .....         .  39 

Evolutionary 66-94 

Rational 95-120 

the,  of  Punishment    ......  122-140 

the,  of  Politics 141-158 

the,  of  Journalism      ......  159-173 

the,  of  Property 174-202 

the,  of  Marriage 203-220 

the,  of  Art 221-236 

and  physical  science 243,  262-263 

Evolution,  exhibits  not  the  cause  but  the  mode  of 

development  .......  66 

Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  definition  of   .         .         .  68 

of  being,  the  three  degrees  of     .         .         .         .  103 

of  the  individual         ......  191 


270 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


271 


Feuillet,  M.,  on  the  new  type  of  womanhood  . 
Fitzgerald,  Mr.  Justice,  on  liberty  of  the  press 
France,  Materialism  in      ....         . 

is  the  mint  of  ideas    ..... 

Freedom,  ethical 

Freewill,  is  denied  by  Materialism  in  all  its  schools 

Mr.  Spencer  on  . 

what  it  implies  ..... 

is  the  form  of  man's  personality 

vindicated 

Bossuet  on 

not  denied  by  St.  Thomas  Aquinas    . 
Function,  Professor  Huxley's  definition  of  the  wor 

Gambetta,  M.,  his  political  philosophy 
George,  Mr.  Henry,  on  the  gospel  of  selfishness 
Gilfen,  Mr.,  on  the  condition  of  the  masses 
Gladstone,  Mr.,  his  psychological  })eculiarities 
Goethe,  on  majorities         ..... 

on  Kant 

on  ideality  ...... 

on  the  ethical  function  of  the  poet     . 
Green,   Professor  T.   H.,  on  the  basis  of  a  man' 
character         ...... 

on  rights  and  duties  ..... 

on  the  end  of  political  organisation    . 

on  the  passions  as  material  for  art     . 

Happiness,  what  it  means  as  a  criterion  of  action 

accounted  by  Mr.  Spencer  t]ie  fundamental  idea 
of  morals         .... 

right  cannot  be  resolved  into 

a  question- begging  word    . 
Harrison,  Mr.  Frederic,  his  Materialism 

on  the  present  condition  of  industry 
Hedonism,  its  prevalence  . 

and  ethics 

Mr.  Spencer's  variety  of    . 

what  its  principle  requires 

the  question  for  those  who  hold  it 


PAGE 

33 

162 

18 

21 

105,  139 

5-27,  47,  54 

74-80 

103 

104 

13G.138 

138 

238 

250 

151 
185 

188 
145 
53 
227 
229 
235 

138 
153 
201 
232 

50 

73,  81,  83 

118 

118 

15 

187 
24 
39 
70 
90 
93 


PAGE 

104 
126 
148 
106,  115 
126 
186 
219 


Hegel,  on  free  will 

on  punishment 

Hobbes,  his  doctrine  of  Rio-ht  and  Wromr 

o  O 

Hooker,  on  law  rational    .... 

on  the  penal  sanction  of  law 
Hugo,  Victor,  on  the  paradise  of  the  rich 
Hume,  on  the  marriage  knot     . 
Huxley,  Professor,  Materialism  the  practical  out- 

come  of  his  doctrine       .         .         .10,  15,  240,  245-258 
on  independent  morality    .....  34 

his  new  morality         ......  37 

his  account  of  human  nature      ....  40 

treats  ethics  as  a  branch  of  physics   .         .         42,  243,  263 
on  Mr.   Herbert  Spencer's   evolutionary  hypo- 
thesis       

is  at  one  with  Bentham  and  Mr.  Spencer  as  to 
the  source  of  ethics  .... 

on  necessity        ...... 

on  the  germination  of  the  higher  faculties  o 

feeling  in  the  lower  forms  of  life    . 
as  a  preacher  of  Idealism  .... 

his  definition  of  Materialism 

on  the  law  of  causation      .... 

teaches  Materialism,  as  defined  by  himself 
an  amazing  illustration  of  . 
difficulty    of     differentiating     him    from    Dr 
Biiclmer  ...... 

his  account  of  consciousness 

his  account  of  thought 

on     "the   extension  of    the  province   of    what 

we  call  matter  and  causation  " 
his  discourse  to  the  "  Christian  Young  Men 
of  Cambridge  ..... 

on  the  progi-ess  of  modern  science 
the  preposterous  conclusions  Avhich  flow  from 
his  premises   ...... 

has  suffered  reproach  as  an  obscurantist    . 
his  doctrine  of  relativity    .... 

his  Phenominism        ..... 


66 

73 

80 

101 
242 
245 

246 

247 
248 

249 

249-252 

251 

252-254 

253 
254 


257 

259 

259-260 

261 


272 


INDEX, 


Hjndman,  Mr.  H.  ^L,  on  the  ends  of  Socialism 
on  the  determination  of  value    . 

Idealism,    is    preached,    occasionally,    by   Professor 

Huxley 13,  242,  244 

Ideality,  true    ....... 

Ingram,  Professor,  on  Socialism 
Inquisition,  the  Spanish,  Montalembert  on 
Institutes  of  Justinian,  the,  on  Slaveiy 
Ireland,  England's  debt  in  respect  of 
Islam,  Avhat  it  did  for  woman   .... 


icrht    in    social 


Janet,  M.,  on  Herr  Biiclmer 
Jevons,    Professor,    on     abstract    i 

matters  .... 
Johnson,  Dr.,  on  free  will 
Journalism,  its  function  in  this  age 

its  rights    .... 

its  duties    .... 

what  it  is,  in  fact 

the  conditions  under  which  it  is  conducted 

its  de-ethecising  influence  .... 
Junius,  on  liberty  of  the  press  .... 
Jurisprudence,  the,  object  of  its  machinery 

false  independence  of  .... 

is   the    phenomenal    expression    of    noumenal 
truth       ........ 

Roman,  its  recognition  of  the  transcendental 
foundation  of  private  right     . 

its  vacillations  on  the  subject  of  marriage 
Justice,  Ulpian's  definition  of   . 

M.  Littre's  account  of  the  origin  of    . 

can  be  rooted  only  in  the  Absolute    . 

identical  with  love  and  reason  . 

is  anterior  to  expei'ience    . 

held  by  Aristotle  to  embrace  all  virtue 

an  aboriginal  principle  of  the  moral  law 

criminal,  what  makes  it  just 

Lord  Lytton's  doctrine  of  two  kinds  of 


PACK 

187 
195 


[,  252,  2.53 
229 
193 
15G 
4.3 
158 
204 

18 

177 

136 

161-162 

162-165 

165-167 

167-170 

171-172 

173 

164 

2 

3 

134 

110 

205 

3 

45 

57 

60 

97 

109 

127 

129 

147,  154 


INDEX. 

Justice — continued. 

the  condition  of  lawful  property 
Justiim  Pretium  ..... 

Kant,  discredited  in  the  eyes  of  Materialists 
on  the  philosophy  of  sensation  . 

on  Will 

on  the  word  "  ought  " 
on  utilitarianism  in  morals 
refers  us  to  the  judgments  of  Reason  for  the 
explanation     of     man's     intuitive     concep- 
tions       ....... 

on  the  explanation  of  organic  products 
on  the  ethical  faculty         .... 

his  test  of  the  ethical   worth  of  conduct 
finds  in  the  moral  law   a  natural  idea  of  pure 

Theism 

deduces  the  institution  of  the  State  from  the 

categorical  imperative  of  duty 
on  instinct  ..... 

on    the    connection    between   moral    evil   and 
punishment    ...... 

on  "  the  distinction  of  a  rational  being  "  . 
on  liberty  and  morality     .... 

on  what  ought  properly  to  be  called  Art  . 
Keats,  his  epitaph    ...... 

Kirkman,  Mr.,  his  criticism  of  Mr.  Spencer 


273 

PAGE 

194 
195 

5 

17,96 

25 

63 

56 


96 

102 

105 
111 

115 

116-117 
126 

125 
135 

154 

227 

166 

78 


Lamb,  Charles,  on  realism  in  art      ....  224 

Landseer,    his    divinatory    faculty     and     creative 

power 224 

Law,  human,  not   the   ultimate  ground   and   only 

measure  of  right    .          .          .          .          .          .  \\2 

is  merely  an  adaptation  to  social  wants  of  the 

eternal  truths  of  ethics      .         .         .         .         114^  1.34-156 

Law  of  nature,  the,  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  on     .         .  106 

Sir  Henry  Maine  on  .          .          .         .          .          .  H^ 

what  the  Roman  jurisconsults  understood  by    .  113 


274 


INDEX. 


Law  of  nature — continued. 

is   an    expression   of    things   in   their   ethical 
relations 

is  the  ideal  pattern     . 
Law,  the  criminal,  conditions  of  a  reasonable  theory 
of 

philosophy  of  the       ....  125-180 

Lecky,  Mr.,  on  Utilitarianism  and  vice     . 

on  the  unidealism  of  the  age 
Lex  faliouis,  the         ...... 

Lessing,  on  the  last  word  in  philosophy    . 
Liberty,  of  the  press 

and  property 

Life,  human,  its  whole  value  is  its  ethical  value 
Littr^,  M.,  on  the  primal  fount  of  morality 
Locke,  on  the  judgments  of  most  men 

on  property        .... 
Logos,  the,  in  the  Fourth  Gospel 
Love,  pure,  destroyed  by  ^Materialism 

is  the  "  travail  propre  "  of  woman 

and  the  thought  of  eternity 

what  it  is  to  the  artist 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  Mr.  Bagehot  on     . 
Lytton,  the  Earl  of,  on  public  morality 


McLennan,  Mr.,  on  the  earliest  form  of  marriage 
Madonna,  the,  the  conception  idealised  in 
Mazzini,  on  the  Atheism  of  the  century 
Maine,  Sir  Henry,  on  the  law  of  nature 

on  the  root  of  tlie  criminal  law . 

on  Socialism       .... 
Manifesto  of  the  Socialistic  League,  The 
Marriage,  the  work  of  Christianity  for 

and  Materialism 

"  according  to  the  truth  of  nature  " 

M.  Renan  on       ...         . 

true  norm  of       ...         . 

civil 

and  Socialism     .... 


PAGE 


114 
217 

55 

133-134 

48 

225 

131-132 

64 

162-165 

191-192 

135 

45 

160 

181 

95 

34 

215 

216 

235 

142 

146-148 


213 

214 

176 

113 

131 

188 

190 

28,  203-207 

28-31 

30 

30 

205,  217-218 

208 

209 


INDEX. 

Marriage — continued. 

primitive 

is,  so  to  speak,  a  natural  sacrament  . 

Hume  on 

Balzac  on  .         .         . 

the  chastity  of  woman  depends  on  its   indis 

solubility 

Materialism,  different  types  of 

its  fundamental  positions  . 

prevalence  of     . 

practical  effects  of      ...         . 

and  prostitution  .... 

and  morality      .         .         *         .         . 

crass,  taught  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer 

what  it  means  by  "  reformation  " 

and  moral  approval  and  disapproval 

in  politics  ...... 

and  Socialism     ..... 

and  marriage      ..... 

and  art 

Professor  Huxley's  definition  of 

as  taught  by  him        .... 

and  the  doctrine  of  relativity     . 
Maurice,  Frederick  Denison,  on   the   moralist   and 

the  politician  .... 

Michelet,  on  the  mission  of  woman  . 
Mill,  Mr.  John  Stuart,  on  utilitarian  morality 

on  Determinism  .... 

on  labour  and  reward 

on  the  higher  ownership    . 
Milton,  on  liberty  of  knowledge  and  speech 

his  Speech  for  the  liberty  of  unlicensed  pri7iting 

on  animal  ratiocination 
Mind,  its  essential  characteristic 

"Mind-stuff" 

Modestinas,  on  Marriage  .... 
Montaigne,  on  the  laws  of  conscience  and  the  rules 

of  justice        ..... 
Montalembert,  on  the  Spanish  Inquisition 

t2 


275 

PAGE 

213 
214 
219 
219 

220 

7-15,  260 

15-17,  261 

17-24,  124 

25-36,  260 

32,47 

37-94 

77 

124 

135 

141,  148-151 

193 

220 

226 

245 

245-258 

259-262 


158 

215,  218 

49 

136 

185 

198 

163 

165 

222 

261 

9,  260 

218 

108 
157 


\\ 


276 


INDEX, 


INDEX, 


277 


Money,  the  morality  of     . 

Morality,  see  Ethics. 

Morison,  Mr.  Cotter,  his  glorification  of  "the barren 

prostitute  "    . 
Morley,  Mr.  John,  his  account  of  moral  principles 

on  Determinism.  .... 

on  man  as  a  machine         .... 

his  explanation  of  the  evil  in  the  world     . 
Morris,  Mr.  William,  on  the  end  of  true  Socialism 
Music,  is  independent  of  the  practical  reason  . 

Napoleon,  the  first,  believed  in  nothing  but  material 
force       ....••• 

on  the  puerility  of  men      .... 
Natural  Right,  the  doctrine  of  .         .         . 

Nature,  a  vast  hierarchy  of  being     . 

Schelling  on       .  .  .  •  •  • 

the  law  of  ....•• 

two  meanings  of  the  word 
Nahirrecht,  the  ofiice  of     . 

the   foundation  of   scientific   jurisprudence  in 

Germany         ...••• 
Necessity,  unknown  in  physical  science    . 

ethical        ....••• 

a  primary  note  of  the  moral  law 

the  foundation  of  Right     .... 
Newman,  Cardinal,  on  the  incommensurability   of 

moral  and  physical  evil     .... 

on   a   certain   doctrine   of   the    liberty  of   the 
press       .....•• 
Novel,  the  modern,  is  an  unacted  play 
Nude,  the,  in  art 

Opinion,  public.  Dr.  Bain,  on    . 

how  far  a  force  for  good    .... 

what  an  appeal  to  means   .... 

how  formed        ....•• 
Optimism,  not  the  product  of  experience  . 


PAGE 

48 


47 

43 

47 

47 

123 

190 

221 


148 

160 

97,  112 

101,  102 

102 

113 

177 

3 

44 

80 

104 

105 

112,  180 

56 

163 
234 
233 

46 

53 

149 

161 

91 


"  Ought,"  the  Avord,  meaningless  without  "  can  "    . 

cannot  be  got  from  physical  facts 

Kant  on . 

denotes  the  special  characteristic  of  the  morally 

necessary         

Ownership,  is  a  moral  entity 

the  higher 


Paul,  St.,  on  conscience    . 

on  punishment  .... 

on  the  spiritual  equality  of  woman  with  man 

his  view  of  marriage . 
Pearson,  Mr.  Karl,  on  "  the  new  sex  relationship  " 
Penal  Code,  the  Italian     . 
"  People  "  the,  as  Deity    . 

as  sovereign       .... 

and  the  newspapers   . 
Person,  man  as  a       . 

in  virtue  of  what  man  is  a 

punishment  a  right  due  to  a 

what  the  word  means 

the,  found  only  in  society  . 
Personality,  M.  Taine's  explanation  of 

how  manifested 

to  what  due        .... 

the  essence  of     . 

and  punishment 

is  the  principle  of  right 

private  property  necessary  to  the  full  idea  of 

and  Socialism  .... 
Phenomena,  Avhat  entities  really  are 
Phenominism,  what  it  is    . 

and  mind  ..... 
Philosophy,  has  its  traditional  bases 

its  function         .... 

Mr.  Herbert  S^Dcncer's 

the  new  and  the  old  . 

an  eternal  .         .         .         . 


PAGE 

25 
52 
52 

105 
182 
197 


6 

133 

205 

214 

209 

122 

151 

160-161 

161-167 

103 

104 

127 

179 

179 

20 

25 

103 

104,  179 

127 

179 

181 

192 

262 

15,95 

261 

5 

22 

6G 

95,96 

99 


278 


INDEX, 


Philosophy — continued, 

and  the  fundamental  principles  of  Ethics . 

Kant's,  viewed  in  its  totality 

the,  of  the  criminal  law     .... 

of  relativity,  the,  a  blasphemy  against  reason 

of  politics  . 

of  journalism 

of  property 

of  marrias^e 

of  art  ... 

materialistic,  the,  natural  fruits  of     . 

accounted  by  Professor  Huxley  a  shrew 
Fhijsicus,  on  the  bearing  upon  Materialism  of  the 
doctrine  of  relativity 

on  Professor  Clifford's  "  mind-stuff 
Pius  yil.,  Pope,  his  action   in  the  matter  of   the 

marriage  of  Jerome  Bonaparte  . 
Pius  IX.,  Pope,  on  the  liberty  of  the  press 
Plato,  on  retributive  punishment 

on  human  laws  ..... 

on  the  function  of  the  artist 
Pleasure,  is  the  test  of  ethical  value  with  Materialists 

the  only  morality  derivable  from,  is  the  morality 
of  money         ....... 

right  conduct  resolved  by  Mr.  Spencer  into  the 
pursuit  of        ......         • 

will,  according  to  Mr.  Spencer,  eventually  accom- 
pany every  mode  of  action      .... 

and  happiness    ....... 

differs  in  its  essence  from  Right         .         .       118, 
Politics,  Materialism  in    . 

Pollock,    Sir    Frederick,    on    Professor    Clifford's 
"  idealism  "....... 

Portraits,  the,  of  this  age  ;  their  tale 
Property,  private,  the  desire  for,  an  element  of  human 
naiui c.  .  .  •  •  •  •  • 

the  ultimate  ground  of  the  right  to    . 

is  necessary  to  the  full  idea  of  personality 

belonsrs  to  the  moral  realm         .... 


PAGE 

100,  101 

116 

125-139 

134 

151-156 

162-167 

174-183 

212-219 

227-233 

236 

241 

260 

260 

207 
163 
129 
156 
230 
46 

48 

70,  80-85 

91 

118 

119,  127 

22,  141 

9,13 
23 

177 

180 
181 
181 


INDEX. 


279 


Property — continued. 

its  original  source   not  the  will   of   the   com 

miinity 

is  valid  only  in  civil  society 
is  conditioned  by  duties      .... 
must  be  organised  in  the  commonwealth 
actual  distribution  of,  not  according  to  i^eason 
and  rio'ht 

o  •  •  •  • 

socialistic  proposals  for  the  redistribution  of 

objections  to  those  proposals 

the  true  foundation  for  the  better  orderino-  of 

the    doctrine    of,    St.     Thomas    Aquinas    con 
cerning 

what  that  doctrine  implies 

much  existing  is  theft 

is  not  abiiolute  but  fiduciary 
Prostitution,  the  apotheosis  of  . 

Mr.  Cotter  Mori  son  on 
Pruriency,  in  ^Esthetics,  whence 
Punishment,  the  utilitarian  view  of  . 

the  rational  Aaew  of   . 

is  retributive      .... 

is  a  right,  not  a  wrong- 
is  expiatory        .... 

historically  considered 

Quinet,  on  the  worship  of  "  The  People  " 

Rack-renting,  on  what  principle  justified 
Raiment,  the,  of  the  nineteenth  century 
"Ransom,"  Mr.    Chamberlain's    doctrine   of,    truer 
than  he  deems 

•  •  • 

Reason,  Positivism   Phenomenism  and  Materialism 
a  revolt  against       .         .         .         . 
Kant's  vindication  of  its  judgments 
definition  of        ...  , 

the  ethical  "  ought  "  appeals  to 
the  dawn  of        ...  , 

is  the  source  of  the  moral  law  . 


testifies  that  there  are  natural  rights  of  man 


105, 


PAGE 


182 
182 
182 
183 

183-188 

188-191 

191-193 

193 

194 

194-199 

J  96-197 

197-198 

32 

47 

209 
122-125 
125-130 

127 
127-130 

128 

130 

151 

195 
223 

198 

95 

96 

97,  1.50 

99 

103 

111,211 

112 


280 


INDEX, 


Reason — continned. 

and  love     .....•• 

is  the  root  of  art         ..... 

Relativity,  the  philosophy  of    . 

and  punishment  ..... 

is  a  blasphemy  against  reason   . 

and  politics         ...... 

and  journalism  ...••• 

and  property 

and  marriage      ....•• 

and  art       ....... 

its  influence  on  life     ..... 

as  taught  by  Mr.  Spencer  .... 

Relif>'ion,  the  onlv  effective  teacher  of  moral  philo 
sophy  to  the  multitude       .... 

Renan,  M.,  does  not  himself  know  whether  he  is  a 
Materialist      ...... 

on  marriage        ...... 

on  personal  interest   ..... 

Right,  the  history  of,  one  long  martyrdom 

two  meanings  of         ....         . 

old  conception  of        ....         . 

conception   of,   in   the   Positivist   and    experi 
mental  school  ..... 

no  room  for  the  idea  of,  in  physics     . 

no  eternal  principles  of,  according  to  Mr.  Spencei 

natural,  the  doctrine  of       . 

and  free  will 

growth  of  the  idea  of,  in  histoiy 

its  subjective  expressions  .... 

is  absolute,  universal,  and  eternal 

the  idea  of,  simple  and  aboriginal 

retributive  justice  an  attribute  of 

is  synonymous  with  Reason 

obedience  due  to  its  law  only 

in  politics  ....... 

and  property       ...... 

and  maiTiage      ...... 

and  art       ....... 


PAG 

216 
227 

95-96 
125 
134 

150 
168 
186,  197 
220 
236 
260 
260 

4,264 

20 

30 

57 

2 

2 

3 

42,  45 

51 

72,  93 

97 

104 

108,  110 

112 

114 

117 

126-130 

127 

129 

141-158 

177-183 

214-219 

227-236 


INDEX. 

Rights,  are  merely  subjective  aspects  of  Right 

how  viewed  by  Materialism 

Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  on     . 

attach  to  personality  .  .         104,  109,  114, 

not  all  are  the  creation  of  positive  law 

the  natural  of  man  have  an  ideal  value 

sophistical ...... 

are  conditioned  bv  duties  ....        180, 
Romanes,  Mr.,  on  natural  causation  . 
Rousseau,  the  truth  about  his  state  of  nature 

his  doctrine  of  man's  natural  goodness 

the  practical  fruits  of  his  gospel 
Ruskin,  Mr.,  on  contemporary  art 

his  account  of  the  acquisition  of   his  patrimony 
Ryle,  Bishop,  on  the  East  End  of  London 


Sand,  George,  her  rule  as  to  "the  real  "  in  art 
Schopenhauer,  on  the  nude  in  art 
Science,  physical,  cannot  yield  a  criterion  of  Right 
and  Wrong      ...... 

what  law  means  in     . 

the  province  of  . 

has    and    ought   to    have    no    creed,    moral    or 
religious  ...... 

Sensation,  a  mental  fact     ..... 

Sentimentality,  sickly        ..... 

Sherbrooke,  Viscount,  on  abstract  right   . 
Sidgwick,  Professor,  on  the  implication  for  the  con 
ception  of  duty        ..... 

Socialism,  a  formidable  sympton  of  the  times   . 

its  remedy  for  the  misery  of  the  masses     . 

is  practically  identical  with  Communism  . 

means  the  undoing  of  the  work  of  civilisation 

its  Utopias  ...... 

is  in  conflict  with  man's  natural  rights 

the  realisation  of,  must  be  prevented  at  all  costs 

its  real  importance     ..... 

what  it  means    ...... 

the  true  arswer  to 

U 


281 

PAGE 

2,  114 

43 

44 

178, 213 

112 

114,  180 

158 

182,  186 

63 

109 

123 

157 

23 

187 

183 

234 
233 

51-53,  57 

62 

237-264 

262 

251 

128 

44 

115 
188 
189 
191 
191 
192 
192 
193 
193 
199 
200 


282 


INDEX 


Socialism — continued. 

objections  to  the  more  reasoned  and  scientific 
kinds  of  ...... 

and  marriage      .  .         •  • 

Socialistic  League,  The  Manifesto  of  the    . 
Spencer,  Mr.  Herbert,  his  doctrine  of  the  Unknow 
able         ....••• 

his  Materialism  ...... 

on  the  need  of  a  new  basis  for  morality      . 

substance  of  his  doctrine    .... 

on  the  true  moral  motive    .... 

his  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution 

his   Data  of  Ethics   glorified    as    his    crowning 
achievement    ...... 

his  account  of  the  evolutionary  method  in  moral 
philosophy      ...... 

refers   all   knowledge  and  all  morality  to  ex 
perience  and  expedience 

the  principle  upon  which  he  builds  in  ethics  is 
concupiscence  ..... 

his  account  of  the  faculty  of  moral  intuition 

denies  eternal  principles  of  Right  and  Wrong 

his  laws  of  conduct     ..... 

the  difference  between  him  and  Bentham  . 

his  non-empiricism     ..... 

his  denial  of  free  will         .... 

his  misuse  of  metaphysical  terms 

an  astonishing  illustration  employed  by     . 

his  "  Beneficent  N'ecessity  "       . 

his  sophisms       ...... 

identities  moral  goodness  with  pleasure     . 

his  singular  method  in  metaphysics  . 

his  account  of  "the  feeling  of  moral  obligation 

his  apriorism      ...... 

on   the   transitoriness    of   the    sense    of    moral 
obligation       ...... 

his  imaginary  ethics  ..... 

his  "  ideal  "...... 

does  not  take  the  totality  of  experience 


12, 


PACK 


201 
209 
190 

11,  79 
77,  261 
37 
40 
49 
60 

67 

68 

69 

70 
71 

72 
73 
73 

74 

75,80 
76 

78 
79 

■  79,  87 

80 

83,87 

85,  87 

86 


88 

89 

91-92 

92 


INDEX. 

Spencer,  Mr.  lIeYhert—conti7iued. 
his  use  of  the  word  pain     . 
summary  of  his  Evolutionary  Ethics 
"  the  vision  and  the  faculty  divine"  not  in  him 
on  truth     .... 
on  property 
on  work  and  enjoyment 
on  the  nude        .... 
a  wise  admonition  of  . 
the  outcome  of  his  teaching 
Spinoza,  on  the  end  of  civil  society  . 
Spontaneity,  Professor  Huxley's  definition  of 
State,  the,  is  an  ethical  society         .         .         .        i] 
its  altum  dominium     . 
may  largely  regulate  industry 
its  true  end 
is  no  longer  Christian 
the  old-world  view  of 
secularisation  of  the  . 
Stephen,  Mr.  Leslie,  on  conscience 

on  the  causes  of  action 
Stoics,  the,  their  august  doctrine 

tlieir  formula     .... 
Strikes,  what  they  in  truth  are 
Suarez,  on  reason  and  the  moral  law 
"  Sweating,"  on  what  principle  justified 

Taine  M.,  his  philosophy  . 

on  virtue  and  vice 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  on  the  Christian  State 
Theism,  and  Ethics  .... 
Theology,  Professor  Huxley  versus    . 
Transcendentalism,  its  main  tenets  . 

marriage  as  now  existing  in  Europe,  its  creation 

no    modus    vivendi    possible    between    it    and 
Materialism    ...... 

is  not  bound  up  with  the  old  dualistic  concep- 

*^o^ 

Trendelenburg,  on  Right  and  rights 


283 


PAGE 


7, 


93 

93-94 
121 
168 
177-178 
200 
232 
240 
261 
152 
239 
133,  154 
197 
201 
201 
207 
208 
208 
6 
39 
111 
152 
200 
211 
195 


20 
27 

208 

115,  116 

241 

16 

28 


61 

63 
2 


284 


INDEX. 


Trendelenburg — continued. 

on  duty  and  right       .... 

on    the   element    of    personality    in  the   lower 

animals  ...••• 
Trent,  the  Council  of,  on  mendacity. 
Turgot,  on  the  presence  in  our  consciousness  of  the 

first  principles  of  morality      . 
Turner,  his  sombre  greatness    . 
Tyndall,  Professor,  on  the  soul 

Ulpian,  his  definition  of  Justice 
Universal  suffrage,  the  practical  result  of 
Unknowable,  the.  Professor  Huxley  on    . 

Mr.  Spencer  on  . 

must  be  a  conundrum  to  most  people 
Utilitarianism,  Austin's     .... 

and  morals  ..... 

Mr.  Spencer's     ..... 

and  punishment  .... 

Value,  and  Capital    ..... 
Veuillot,  M.  Louis,  as  a  journalist     . 

Woodman,  the,  is  not  a  function  of  his  axe 
Wrong,  see  Right. 

Zanardelli,  Signer,  on  the  ends  of  punishment 
Zola,  M.,  his  Materialism  .... 
his  picture  of  the  famishing  Gervaise 


PAGE 

104 

178 
171 

101 

224 

17 

3 

149 
10 

11,  79 

12 
2 

2,  48,  49,  56 
71-72 
122 

192 
170 

251 


122 

21 

183 


KICIIOLS  AND  SONS,  PRINTERS,  25,  PARLIAMENT  STREET,  WESTMINSTER. 


SOME   OPINIONS   OF  THE   PRESS 


ON 


MR.  LILLY'S  WORKS. 


A  CENTURY  OF  EEVOLUTION. 

By  W.  S.  LILLY. 

Second  Edition,  revised  and  enlarged.     Demy  8vo,  V2s. 


From  the  TIMES. 

"  Mr.  Lilly's  book  is  eminoniy  suq:ge-;tive.  and  (leiniuil-i  most  serious  attention.  It  is  too  pliiloso- 
pliical  and  i)r(>f.iunil  to  be  light  and  easy  reading,  but  his  clear  convictions  and  definite  conclusion!= 
are  expressed  in  terse  and  forcible  language.  He  is  always  logical  ;  he  is  fair  and  candid  towards  the 
advocates  of  the  creed  he  condemns,  for  when  he  refutes  them  they  fire  judged  out  of  their  own 
mouths,  and  by  quotations  so  precise  and  self-contained  that  they  are  obviously  independent  of 
context." 

From  the  ATHEN^IUM. 

"  We  rei^eat  our  general  concliLsion  that  Mr.  Lilly's  attack  on  the  revolutionary  dogmas  is  an  eloquent 
and  a  cogiiut  seciuence  of  facts  and  arguments  which  those  who  dissent  from  it  are  b<iund  to  weigh 
and  to  answer.  He  has  sliown.  we  think,  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  which  is  the  wi(h^st  general- 
isation to  which  we  have  yet  attained,  is  absolutely  destructive  of  the  ideas  of  1781).  And  he  has 
indicated  in  many  telling  passages— the  full  proof  would  be  beyond  the  limits  of  such  an  essay  as  he 
presents  to  us— that  these  ideas  are  not  only  false  in  their  origin,  but  mischievous  in  their  applica- 
tion; resjion-^ible  ratlier  fo  ■  the  discouraging  than  for  the  hopeful  elements  in  the  societies  around 

us.  anil  in  no  way  capable  of  sustaining  the  enthusiasm  which  their  first  promulgation  evoked 

this  vigorous  and  timely  work." 

From  the  TABLET. 

'•  A  series  of  masterly  essays  treating  of  the  Revolution  in  its  relation  to  social  and  moral,  rather 
than  i)olitical  iihenomena.  Its  author,  as  our  readers  scarcely  require  to  be  told,  belongs  to  that 
more  thoughtful  scliool  of  historians  who  are  not  content  to  review  tlie  events  of  the  past  without 
considering  them  in  their  general  bearing  on  humanity  at  large,  and  is,  therefore,  well  qv:alified  to 
write  on  a  period  so  familiar  in  its  superficial  aspects,  yet  so  inexhaustible  as  a  theme  for  si>eculation 
and  ethical  inquiry,  as  the  sanguinary  drama  which  ushered  in  the  revolutionary  epoch  in  Europe. 
His  luciil  and  nervous  diction  enables  him  to  be  jirofound  with(mt  obscuj-ity,  and  to  make  clear  the 
metaphysical  basis  on  which  abstract  political  reasoning  must  ultimately  rest.  !>tarting  then 
from  that  revolutionary  dog;na  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  man  to  himself  and  his  fellows,  promulgated 
for  the  first  time  in  any  society  of  human  beings  or  in  any  stage  of  progress  in  France  during  the 
last  century,  he  i)roceeds  to  judge  of  the  moral  efficacy  of  this  doctrine  by  its  fruits,  and  to  consider 
th'>  revolution  in  its  relations  with  eacii,  of  what  he  terms,  the  'four  great  factors  of  civilisation  iis 
it  exists  in  the  world— liberty,  religion,  science,  and  art.'  From  these,  its  more  ethical  and  a'sthetical 
aspects,  he  pas-es  to  'examine  its  connection  with  the  great  p(jlitical  fact  of  this  age,  commonly 
called  democracy,'  and  indicates,  in  conclusion,  its  influence  on  public  life  in  England.  In  his 
chapter  on  the  llevolution  and  Liberty,  which  is  a  masterinece  of  sound  and  forcible  reascjuing.  he 
brusiies  away  the  specious  cobwebs  of  sojjhistry.  on  which  is  reared  the  revolutioiuiry  dogma  that 
liberty  re>ides  in  i)olitical  e(piality.  These  are  among  the  questions  raised  by  Mr.  Lilly's  thoughtful 
volume,  which,  while  thus  suggestive  to  the  stmlent  of  history,  is  not  less  entertaining  to  the 
general  public  from  t!ie  happy  for^u  in  which  tiie  author  has  the  art  of  presenting  his  ideas  to  his 
reader." 

From  the  MORNING  POST. 

"  In  considenng  the  effect  which  the  llevolution  has  had  upon  hberty,  Mr.  Lilly  an-ives  at  the 
conclusion  that  its  work  has  been  alin)st  entirely  negative,  that  it  has  destroyed  restrictions  upon 
the  exercise  of  human  power,  but  that  in  achieving  liberty  in  the  positive  seiise  it  has  failed.  He 
considers  i)articularly  the  case  of  France,  wiiich  he  asserts  to  have  been  converted  by  the  Revolution 
into  a  chaos  of  hostile  individuals,  and  where,  he  adds,  public  spirit  has  been  destroyed.  He  asks 
whether  free  lorn  cau  be  attributed  to  tlie  French  peasant,  of  whom  he  finds  little,  if  any,  good  to  say; 
affirming  him  to  be  '  brutalised  and  utterly  selfish,  a  mere  human  automaton,  a  voting  animal,  in- 
capable of  realising  his  powers  for  the  connnon  good,'  The  artisan  class,  in  France,  does  not  appear 
to  meet  with  nutch  more  approbation,  as  Mr.  Lilly  considers  it  to  be  saturated  with  '  the  anarchic 


teachinn'of  Rmi?seau.'  ana  puts  it  down  a^  a  prry  to  political  apitator?,  wlio  dazzlo  it '  with  visions  of 
sociali^ric  Utopias.'  The  conclusion  at  wiiich  tlic  writer  arrives  is  sweeping.  He  asserts  tliat  '  the 
Kevolution  in  France  has  shown  itself  hostile  to  lilierty  of  person,  liliorty  of  proi)erty,  and  liberty  of 
eilncation  '  In  connection  with  relifdon.  Mr.  T.illy  points  out  tliat '  hostility  to  relifrion  is  one  of  the 
chief  characteristics  of  the  devolution/ adducing' in  supix.rt  «>f  that  contention  the  Declaration  of 
Hiflits  and  explaining  Gand)etta's  famous  aiM)^trophe,  •  Le  clericalisnie  voila  1  ennenii,  by  other 
sp.'^eches  of  the  same  statesman,  he  roun  llv  aRinns  that  by  clericalism  is  meant  •  all  reli^'ions  and  all 
reli^'io<itv.  As  to  the  relations  of  the  llevolution  witli  science,  Mr.  Lilly  seeks  to  prove  that  the  facts 
of  Darwinism,  that  freiieralisation  of  science  to  which  the  Revolution  is.  he  asserts,  fond  of  api)oaliiig 
—that  the  facts,  as  opposed  to  tlie  speculations,  of  Darwiniiiism  are  fatal  to  the  fundaineiital  pro- 
p»isition-  of  the  revolutionary  dojrma.  Tlie  chapter  on  Hevolutiim  and  Art  consists  almost  entirely  of 
an  examination  of  Zola's  method,  as  the  author  maintains  that  naturalism  in  art  is  a  note  of  tlie 
Revolution  :  but  ixjrliaps  the  most  interesting  portion  of  the  work  is  that  dealing  with  the  influence 
of  the  Kevolutiou  on  democracy." 

From  the  SPECTATOR. 

"  Of  the  many  books  calle<l  into  beinfj  by  tlie  centenary  of  the  French  llevolution,  Mr.  Lilly  has 
written  one  of  the  most  striking.     His  book  is  a  study  of   the  sjiirit  of  the  Revolution— a  difficult 

ta-k.  for  which  he  has  been  well  prepared  by  his  philosophical  studies  in    European  history 

This  striking,  thoughtful,  ami  interesting  book." 

From  JOHN  BULL. 

"Tlie  crntenart- of '89  has  naturally  callol  into  exist- nee  a  great  mass  of  interesting  literary 
matter  liealing  with  tlie  French  Revolution.  But  we  doubt  if  it  luus  brought  forth  anything  more 
interesting  from  a  literary  as  well  as  from  a  political  point  of  view  than  ^Mr.  W.  is.  Tally's  •  A  Century 
of  Revohuion.'  The  accom))li>hed  author  of  that  very  striking  and  remarkable  book,  entitled 
•Chapters  in  European    History,"  has  the  courage  of  his  0|  inions,  and  feeling  strongly,  does  not 

shrink  from  expressing  strongly  what  he  feels We  commen<l  most  heartily  to  all  our  readers 

thi^  most  striking  study  of  the'results,  political  ami  social,  of  '  A  Century  of  Revolution.'" 

From  the  SCOTSMAN. 

"  Tliere  is  singular  opportuneness  in  the  appearance  of  Mr.  W.  S.  Lilly's  noteworthy  book  ....  a 
powerful  broadsile  of  i)hilosoi)hic  argument,  discliarge<l  point-ltlank  at  the  champion  of  the 
•  Gospel  of  1789.'  at  the  moment  the  preparations  are  going  forward  for  celebrating  the  pulling  down 
of  the  Bastile  ....  he  assails  the  Revolution  in  the  germ  and  in  the  fruit— he  hews  at  root  and 
branch  ....  he  examines  the  Revolution  in  the  light  of  a  century's  exiK'rience,  its  relation  to  the 
four  great  factors  of  civilisation— liberty,  religion,  science,  and  art— ami  its  influence  on  democracy 
and  on  the  public  life  of  England." 


CHArTEES  U  EUEOPEAN  HISTORY, 

A\'itli  an  Introdcctoey  Dialogce  on  the  PiiiLosoniY  of  History 

By  W.  S.  LILLY. 

2  vols.,  demy  8vo,  2\x. 


From  the  TIMES. 

"  These  volumes  of  Mr.  Lilly's  are  delightful  reading,  whether  he  compels  our  a.<!sent  to  his  con- 
clusions or  provokes  us  to  doubt  and  differ  from  them.  For  they  are  full  of  pregnant  and  suggestive 
thouglits;  we  might  almost  aild  of  subtly  ingenious  soi)liistries.  He  is  always  original  and  very 
often  brilliant.  There  are  pag-s  of  fervidly  impas.sioned  eWpience.  and  i)assagus  in  which  striking 
scenes  are  repro<luced  with  wonderfully  realistic  dramatic  power.  He  has  the  art  of  impressing  on 
the  reader  his  own  definite  conceptions  of  the  grander  figures  in  the  misty  past,  of  their  characters. 


the  most  faithful  pictures  of  mediaeval  life  in  an  Italian   l^eP^b  f  •  .^^J^'^J^J^'^^^^^^  yet  111  the 
chapter  to  chapter,  under  the  si^ell  of  his  style  and  the  3"torest  of  h  s    "^^""f  ^7^'  ^'  ^^  ideas  a-  he 
time  we  are  kept  half  unconsciously  on  the  defensive,  since  he  A^^^;  , J^«,f/f  ^^mes  are  c^^^^^ 
delights  in  pro  .ounding  paradoxical  oinnions.     \\  e  can  only  repeat  that^  his  volumes  are  chamaug 
while  they  should  be  invaluable  as  an  incentive  to  intellectual  research. 

From  the  ATHEN^UM. 

"  This  review  of  European  History  has  the  merit  of  extreme  '^i^^Pli^^ty  ;  .  .  . ,  ^J^^^^^'^ ^^^^'^'J,^^ 
interacting,  and  his  book  should  be  read  by  every  one  vv^.o  ^^•'^^^^•'^^;^■r"\*^,  ^,  "^^  He  setTforth 
Dre'^ent  tendencies  of  thought  among  the  most  cultivated  class  ot  Engli>h  f  atholits.  He  sets  Tortli 
r^T-rl  Id  an  mate^^  and  graceful  stvle  the  results  of  much  reading  and  retiection,  and  even  those 
who  .mferfrZ  M^^^^^  most  widely  will  be  pleased  by  the  perfect  frankness  and  lucidity  with  which  he 
states  his  conclusions. 

From  the  SPECTATOR. 

"Mr  Lilly's  stvle  has  both  lucidity  and  charm It  is  a  common  experience  to  meet  with  a 

volume  w]n:-h  miirht  with  advantage  have  been  compressed  into  an  essay.  Here  we  fand  something 
much  m..re  uncmmoii-a  volume  of  essays,  almost  every  one  of  which  woukl  gam  in  interest  and 

value  bv  being  expanded  into  a  volume The  work  of  a  sincere,  searchmg.  and  honest  thinker 

who  neVer  allows  his  thouglit  to  become  reckless  and  wanton,  who  never,  even  in  the  heat  of  a 
niovin.'  argum(>nt.  con.lescends  to  those  polemical  '  points'  which  are  the  bane  of  editying  discussion, 
but  who  leads  us  with  him  not  by  impetuosity,  but  by  the  urbane  moderation  and  restraint  which 
proceed  from  the  conviction  of  which  the  whole  work  is  an  outcome  that  truth  may  be  left,  not 
'  to  take  care  of  itself,' as  contemporary  phraseology  woul.l  put  It,  but  to  be  cared  tor  by  0„e  who 
will  never  leave  it  nor  forsake  it.  There  is  not  one  of  these  chapters  which  may  not  be  studied 
senaratelv  with  enjoyment  and  intellectual  satisfaction,  and  yet  they  naturally   link  themselves  to 

one  another,  and  have  the  unity  of  a  common  aim They  are  rich  in  learnmg  and  m  interest ; 

an.  I  the  work  as  a  whole  is  one  that  can  be  heartily  recommended." 

From  the  TABLET. 

"  These  vr)lumes  are  a  worthy  sequel  to  ]\Ir.  Lilly's  '  Ancient  Religion  and  :\rodem  Thought.'  which 
we  reviewcil  last  year.  ]\!ore  \-aried  in  matter  and  not  dealing  so  much  in  pure  speculation,  they  are 
full  of  interesting  and  timely  discussion  on  the  problems,  religious,  social,  and  political,  which  cast 
their  sluulo  (jver  modern  life"".  It  is  needless  to  jiraise  the  learning  of  so  confessedly  an  erudite  man 
as  Mr.  Lilly  ;  the  jiages  bear  witness  to  long-continued  and  reaching  studies  of  which  Ihe  results  are 
given  in  a  "graceful,  polished,  persuasive  style.  The  manner  is  very  bright  and  has  the  charm  of 
complete  sincerity [Mr.  Lilly  speaks  what  he  believes,  confident  that  truth  alone  will  advan- 
tage the  cause  he  has  at  heart." 

From  JOHN  BULL. 

"'S^T.  Lilly's  *  Chapters  in  Euroi)ean  Histf)ry'  fonn  one  of  the  most  fascinating  and  attractive 
books  that  we  have  met  with  for  a  long  time.  The  author  has  made  good  u.^e  of  his  wide  and 
extensive  reading,  and  has  a  most  pleasant  way  of  bringing  in.  without  ol)truding.  the  fruits  of  his 
research.  His  style  is  most  readable,  and  would,  even  if  his  matter  were  less  valuable  in  itself,  lend 
a  considerable  chami  to  volumes  which,  as  it  is.  have  no  small  value  when  we  regard  their  matter 
rather  than  their  manner.  The  earnestness  with  which  he  enforces  his  views  would  claim  attention 
for  them  even  if  those  views  were  as  ill-founded  as  some  hostile  critics  have  asserted.  1  hough  it  is 
iniix)ssible  to  deny  that  the  author's  taste  for  paradoxical  utterances  has  now  and  again  led  to  his 
developing  some  startling  theories,  those  theories  are,  even  when  most  paradoxical,  well  worthy  of 
attention.  Indeed,  there  is  a  subtle  and  incommunicable  charm  ab(ait  the  very  vein  of  paradox 
which  runs  through  the  book,  and  we  may  well  forgive  the  paradoxes  for  the  sake  of  the  charm  of 
freshness  and  originality  which  the  rare  literary  skill  of  the  writer  has  thrown  over  them." 

From  the  ST.  JAMES'S  GAZETTE. 

"  :Mr.  Lilly  has  earned  a  deserved  reputation  for  learning,  originality,  and  brilliancy  of  style.  His 
latest  work'will  confirm  this  reputation.  It  is  obviously  the  result  of  very  wide  reading  ;' it  is 
marked  by  copious  ami  polyglot  quotations,  and  by  a  wondrous  wealth  of  paradox  and  epigram  ;  and 
his  style  is  always  striking  and  sometinus  startling." 

From  VANITY  FAIR. 

"  Here  is  an  author  who  knows  almost  everything  that  has  been  written  under  the  sun  ;  he  is  a 

vast  magazine  of  facts  and  ideas Such  an  article  as  that  on  '  The  Eighteenth  Century '  is  so 

admirable  that  we  can  only  wish  we  had  an  exhaustive  volume  from  the  same  hand." 


From  the  GRAPHIC 

"Everywhere  Mr.  Lilly's  work  is  characterised  by  profound  thought  and  much  learning, 
while  the  theme  is  made  as  attractive  as  its  weighty  nature  will  allow,  by  a  luminous  and  admirable 
stvle." 


ANCIENT    RELIGION    AND 
MODERN    THOUGHT. 

By  AV.  S.  LILLY. 

Second  Edition,  revised  and  enlarged.    Demy  8vo,  Us. 


From  the  SATURDAY  REVIEW. 


..  we  are  sincerely  ..aa  to  welcome  »  ne;ve.itu.„<,.2n-auy^^^^^^ 
Mo,rintere,tiog  oUm'>'-^^>^J''^,';:t^^'^  Spirit,  will  repay  caretui  study,  and 
'^^'^i^  ;tl'liedn%.vc  ia.tice';ione  to  it." 

From  the  SPECTATOR. 

..  ^u .  a  ^.  whic  evidence.  ^^^;::^,^'^s.:::f  ^^-^^t^l^lj^ 

yerv  high  diaU-ctic  iK,wer      .  •  •  A-  more  PJ^^^'""     \  j    account,  for  conscience  as  the  product  of 

From  the  ST.  JAMES'S  GAZETTE. 

.  xo  intelligent  reader  will  fail  to  recognise  tl-jjj^- -^^^^jlil^^Lc'l^  ^jJ^Lgulient f  S. 
p-oblem     io.li.ca..e..     He  lias  taken  pams  to  apprecux^et^i.f^^^^^^  uianifest.  not  only  much 

!;but'^^;Ls:i;rt,,=t!r^^^^ 

i:.i;''„p(aca,wriU.j.  b^..;.-u.-"t-^^^^^^^  ,„no  ,,t  m.  statcm.ats  to  w.„c,.  t„e 

SoS  velieS  ;Ti|:"ticfI.a,d  object  a,  either  iutolcreut  or  unfair. 

From  the  TABLET. 

.    .  ........  tint  liad  a  wide   ponnlarity  as  tliey 

..  Tl.i.  remarkable  an.l  o  i.-inal  w,>rk.  t''";-; ;'. '"I'.  ;^,  j:^  ',,'1 ,   „t^  ,t ;  an  1.  a'  we  cannot  d.ml.t, 

SKSiin.^:'l^^^^t^-"^^i:S^  .n  il^^^r^Srfin  K^ 

readers  who  they  may." 


From  the  ACADEMY. 


This  i.  an  int..ro.tin.  and  su..e.tive  ^f^:;;^:rX:!^^'cr>SSJr'\"fS:^. 
'         ,      .  .-:...  _..„.i;,.,r  fni   Mt^  lint  nuotation^.  acute,  au  I  uLiv^ii  _  „..,^...  >>r>t+pr  than  the 


-  This  is  an  interesting  and  suggestive  ^o^k  well  ^™^'  ;  '  -;^";t  ^,,^^^^t  criticisms.     It  is  genial, 
stu.lV  and  exten^ve  reading,  fulot  apt  cpio^U^m^^^^  ^.,^  ^^  , 

lucid,  and  not  seldom  --d  in  s^U^  f^^^^^^Z^^i^^a  with  thought  as  to  be  ha, 


SS^uS'SdomvlvSlfln^stW^l^foi^^ 


From  the  SCOTSMAN- 


xrom  tue  ovvA'-'*'*'^'^' 
-  T„e  work  U  one  whicl,  deal,  fairly  and  f™>kly,  and  in  no  narrow  or  one-sided  spirit.  w.,h  some 
of  the  nwImomeStons  questions  that  o  m  occupy  Intu.an  thought. 


From  the  DAILY  NEWS. 

.  .  n  „  .f-  r.^{}  to  roco^-nise.  with   enipnatic 

•^  Those  who  are  acquainted  with  ^f^;  J^ill>-"^,^"^^'^?th   wh  ch  Y^  eon?n,.i^.  the  most  dimcult 
r.^siict    the  conspicuous  coura-e  and  th.;n.ughne^>  Nvith   ^vtuc.l  ,ai„.ophy.  tlie  treasures  of 

pnKms  a,id  the  niost  audacious  speculations  of  "^^^^^^^'.^^^.^S^ar  u  'i'  whic!?  he  brings  to  the 
Sdlei  various  reading,  and  a,nple  'iy"^''"':^^  /^^^  ;,^,f,e  "^  h  s  f  uiiliar  acquaintance  with  the 
^ntrovfrsi^s  in  which  he  seems  to  feel  the  delig   t     t  b  tt^e.     m^^  ^^^^    ^^^^^^^  ^^.  ^^^^   ^^.^.^      ^^^ 

Iwniagesand  literatures  of  the  East,  as  well  ;^r;V.  '  wers  ^A^^^  '^^^^^  *'''^^^'*"'  "'  philosophy.  To 
himTfeaWess  and  formidable  antagonist  for  ^^e  ^<',^*^';,.^,^  "V^^n  ^^n-l  philo^oplius.  from 

Severtan.l  unbelievers  alike  his  suidies  of  -'\$;^"\  «»  ^  /  '>^^^J^  ,^^  Schopenhauer,  are  deeply 

S  Udsm  to  Nihilism,  fnmi  Confucius  and  /fj^^^rimamw  au^  the  vigour  of  the  argument 
Tul  /estive.     No  reader  will  refuse  to  acknowle  lf^t''^^,,';^"r"  intellect.     It  seems  an  odd  thmg  to 

ri^^rofti^iSio'^t^r^S^n^^      -- '"-"  ="-'"" 

CHAPMAN  A.NU  HALL,  Limited,  LONDON. 


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